After All
by LovingEmerald
Summary: Lord & Lady Malfoy used to be passionately-in-love fools called Draco & Ginny. 10 yrs into their marriage, they live like strangers in the same house, barely speaking to one another. What happened in the ten years past, & how did they get here?FULL INSIDE
1. Chapter 1

Full Summary: **Lord and Lady Malfoy used to be passionately-in-love fools called Draco and Ginny. Ten years into their marriage, they live like strangers in the same house, barely speaking to one another. What happened in the ten years past, and how did they get here? Can things ever be repaired? Read as Ginny and Draco confront their past and embark on a journey to forgiveness.**

_Rated T for now, but later chapters will have some mostly mature subject matter._

Author Notes: This story is AU (set in an alternative universe). A bit of background information - Harry defeated Voldemort in the Great War aka the Final Battle at Hogwarts. During the war, Draco escaped to France - he was a neutral party. After that, his name was cleared and he returned to England to manage his family business, and took up residence at the Malfoy Manor. This story isn't about evil sorcerers or devlish plans for the dark lord. It is simply a passage about two shattered lives, two lost souls, and how they find their way back to each other. Please read as this fic is very important to me. And review of course!

Disclaimer: the characters and concept of "Harry Potter" belong to JKR. Original characters, material and plot are mine.

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

"_She knows the voices in her mind_

_They tell her_

_To leave"_

_- After All _by Delirium.

* * *

She smiled beatifically, waving as her husband swooped down to lovingly kiss her cheek. They repeated this display of their love over and over again, dazzling the reader with their perfection. Under the photo, the caption read: _the Minister of Magic and his charming wife arrive at the International Charity Gala, held last night at the French ministry._

People across England sat at their breakfast tables with the paper, talking about the Minister, and how good he'd been for the country since being elected five years ago. Indeed, respect for the British magical community – and their brilliant Minister of Magic – had risen greatly since he had taken office. He'd strengthened alliances with several of their neighbours, making all the right donations and loans to ensure that Britain still held power in Europe. He had cracked down on criminals, and made several improvements in the criminal laws, even introduced a _Law Prevention_ legislation, encouraging common folk to help make their communities safer. The new Minister had unified their community in a way that everyone had failed to do since the Great War.

And, then there was his wife. A beautiful, generous woman who split her time between various charities, volunteering at St. Mungo's every week, insisting that she be treated like any other volunteer since she was only doing her job as a good citizen. She was gracious, and kind; strong, regal, and untouchable, yet very loveable. Anyone who saw them together couldn't help but fall in love with them. They looked perfect with each other, and what with the tragedy their little family had suffered all those years ago, it was wonderful to see them looking so happy. If anyone deserved to be happy, the people thought, it was definitely the Minister and his wife.

Lord and Lady Malfoy.

Ginny sat in the family dining room, sipping her coffee and skimming through the morning's _Prophet_. She avoided looking at the picture, skilfully passing her eyes over it as she read about the latest developments on the International Treaty that was currently in the works. It was the same news as yesterday – the Minister was looking into it, progress was being made, details unknown. Bored, she closed the newspaper, and pushed it away. It was 12 o'clock on a Thursday. She had cancelled her volunteer shift at Mungo's today, being too worn out from last night's Gala. They hadn't gotten home till two in the morning, and after that, it took her a good couple of hours to fall asleep.

_You'd think I'd be used to the lack of sleep by now,_ she thought sardonically. _After all, five years is a long time._

Five years.

So much had changed during that time. Draco had become the minister; she had gone from being simply Lady Malfoy, to the Minister's wife. She was still getting used to all the press and public attention the position attracted. Apparently, the Minister and his wife were the latest "It couple", though how one could stay the latest anything for five straight years was beyond her.

She remembered asking a photographer friend of hers the same question a couple of years ago. He had laughed, and said: "Darling, you two aren't just the latest anything, you're classic. And, I suspect, you'll stay that way for a long time."

Shaking her head, she had replied that she didn't understand. They were just two people, she'd said. A married couple, and there were plenty of those around.

"Ah, but, darling, you forget. You aren't any two people, you are Lady and Lord Malfoy – our own real-life version Romeo and Juliette, who fell madly in love and actually lived through it to tell the tale. You are _the_ dream, darling, and don't you forget it."

Ginny smiled sadly. She would never forget it, indeed. Everywhere she went, people practically Oh-ed and ah-ed over her, telling her how they admired the two of them, and how inspiring they were to couples all over. Inspiring. How could an illusion be so inspiring? Were people really that blind?

_But, I suppose we always have been good at keeping up appearances,_ she thought. _How could anyone even a stand a chance?_

Involuntarily, her thoughts wandered to a time when their happiness wasn't just a front. That day ten years ago when she had married him seemed so much closer – so much more familiar – than the last five years she'd spent as the Minister's wife. She remembered the first time they met.

She was twenty at the time, fresh out of Wizard's University, and the Great War. Harry had just broken up with her, and in a bout of rebellion against him and her family, she had moved out and taken a job at the _Daily_ _Prophet_, working as a columnist. Six months into the job, and she'd hit a gold-mine: Draco Malfoy. After interviewing as many as twelve girls, she had published an article, tearing into the so-called Slytherin Sex God, chiding him womanizing ways, and showcasing the cascade of weeping women he left in his wake. He was working in his family business at the time. The morning of the publication he'd stormed into her office, demanding to know what exactly she was thinking publishing some rubbish like that in an advice column, and for God's sake, why him? As he went about spewing, Ginny had calmly told him to face the consequences of his actions. He had stopped his rant at that, looking at her like she was crazy.

"What?" he'd said, narrowing her gray eyes at her. "You don't actually believe this rubbish, do you? It's crap! All these supposed _wailing_ women, are just spurned lovers looking for revenge because they didn't get to be Mrs. Draco Malfoy, and sink their teeth into my fortune!"

"Right, Malfoy, because twelve women would come out to get you exactly at the same time," she'd replied sarcastically. "Half of them didn't even go to Hogwarts, for God's sake! How many women could you have possibly spurned in two years, one in the middle of a war, at that?"

When he looked at her like she was dubious, Ginny had decided that maybe, Malfoy being – well, himself – probably _had_ pissed off twelve women in two years. Or more. But, that still didn't prove he wasn't a womanizer, and for that fact alone, she'd refused to publish the apology he demanded, telling him instead to go fuck off and leave her to do her job as an honest to goodness reporter. He couldn't order her around unless he owned the newspaper, which he obviously didn't since he had to come running to her to solve his problems. She didn't know him back then.

A week later, when she was in the middle of a rather nice date with Dean Thomas, he had showed up at her door with a triumphant look on his face, papers in hand. After barging in uninvited and unceremoniously throwing out her date, he had announced that she was looking at the new owner of the _Prophet_. Now, he'd said, she had no choice but to publish that apology (and it better be a good one), or she would lose her job. Of course, by then, the shock of seeing him in her apartment had worn off, replaced by anger. She had screamed at him, calling him a controlling bastard. That set him off, and they'd stood there fighting for what seemed like hours...

"_Ahh!" Ginny screamed in frustration, pushing Malfoy back. There were in her tiny living room, both panting, faces flushed with anger. He was towering over her, his characteristic sneer playing on his lips as he taunted her with his new control on her life. Ginny stared back defiantly. _

_When he didn't budge, she tried pushing him away again, only this time he caught her by the arms and slammed her against the closest wall._

"_Stop," Malfoy hissed, his blond hair falling into his molten eyes. He was strong. She felt his toned muscles against her as he pressed into her, preventing her from struggling. His lips were just a whisper away, his warm breath tickling her neck. He looked – and felt – so alluring at that moment that Ginny finally understood what the other girls must've seen in him. _

_He's so fucking hot._

_She shivered at the thought, and looked up at him, ready to scream in his face. When her brown eyes met his, she was surprised to see him looking at her not with anger, but with a confused glare, as if he was trying to decipher something about her. They stared at each other for a long moment before Ginny reached up, and kissed him hard. The moment their lips touched, it was as if a dam had been unlocked and unleashed their pent up feelings in full force._

_They devoured each other hungrily, releasing the frustrations of their fight in bites and kisses and moans. They tore away at each other's clothing as Ginny pushed him onto the sofa, breaking away from their kiss to take off his shirt and allowing him to do the same with her. As she bent over him to lick his lips again, he flipped them over, his toned body pressing down on her, making her wetter. As he bit and sucked on her neck, Ginny felt intoxicated. When his tongue licked a particularly sensitive spot, she moaned, grabbing his hair and wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. She wanted him. She rubbed her wetness against his erection, eliciting a moan. That seemed to turn him on more, as his kisses became more ravenous, and she lost herself to his touch..._

Needless to say, they had shagged on her sofa, and then in the hallway to her bedroom, and finally – when they were able to make it there – in her bed. That had been the beginning.

They dated for the next year, falling passionately in lust and love, and never looking back. On their first anniversary, he had taken her to her favourite restaurant – _Le Vienne_ – buying out the entire room, and setting up a candlelit dinner for two. She'd been so mesmerized by the decor and food, that when at the end of the meal, he'd taken out a ring and proposed, she'd simply squealed a "YES!" before jumping on him. Six months later, they were married in grand Malfoy tradition, and she became Lady Ginevra Malfoy, mistress of Malfoy Manor.

The first few years of their marriage had been typical, filled with arguments and lots of sex. Living with Draco and his many habits had taken time to adjust to, but as her mother had always told her - "Marriage is no piece of cake. The real work begins after the wedding, Ginny," – she had stuck it out, and of course, once she became accustomed to him, things seemed to work better. Besides, it wasn't like she was walk in the park herself; Draco had to get used to her as well. She remembered a particularly heated argument they'd had after he'd asked her to stop working at the Prophet. It didn't befit her title as Lady Malfoy, he'd said. And, now that she had more money than she could count, what did she need the job for anyways? She'd countered, saying she loved working at the paper, and who was he to dictate her life? After hours of fighting, she'd relented, but only after he promised to let her on the committee board, so she could be involved with the paper in at least some way. The make-up sex that followed was blissful.

A year into their marriage, Draco was invited to join the Wizegamont. As the years went by, he became more and more involved with the Ministry, leaving Ginny to manage the _Prophet_, and his staff to manage _Malfoy Corp._ On their fourth anniversary, when everything was still fine, when they were still undeniably in love, he'd announced that he was thinking of running for Minister of Magic. She'd been delighted, and offered her support. They had spent that night making love like they hadn't since they were newlyweds. He seemed so thankful and relieved to have her approval, and she basked in the light of his attentions. The campaign began soon after, and they began travelling England, going from city to city, talking to people about their goals and what changes they could bring about together, with him as the new Minister. The opposition had been strong, but the campaign for Minister Malfoy was growing stronger. In those few months as the election drew to a close, Ginny remembered thinking that life was perfect. She had a wonderful, handsome husband, a powerful job to speak of, and a loving family. What more did she need?

Had she known then that it was only the calm before the storm, she would have thought differently.

_I would've been more careful, _she thought ruefully. Tasting salt in mouth, Ginny was surprised to find tears rolling down her cheeks. She hadn't cried in a while.

Letting out a shaky sigh, she got up, drying her tears and performing a glamour charm her face before leaving the dining room. Walking down the ornate hallway, she noticed, as she always did when she was alone, how deafening silence really was. Picture perfect Malfoy Manor, with all its crystal chandeliers, intricate mouldings, and Persian rugs, was vacant, and empty.

Just like her life.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So, what'd you guys think? Please read and review, and be honest (constructively ^^"). This fic is very different from my other one. I'm trying to write a darker fic if you will,so tell me if my efforts are getting anywhere ^^.

xoxo

Loving_Emerald.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"_She's tired of smiling madly_

_Until silence becomes very silently,_

_A noise in her mind_."

- _After All_ by Delirium.

* * *

To the outside world, Ginevra Malfoy had the perfect life. A handsome, loving husband, who also happened to be filthy rich and the most powerful man in Europe; a beautiful body, a sharp mind; an executive position at Britain's most read newspaper; a beautiful mansion with stunning fields, and servants at her every beck and call. She knew influential people; she associated with famous painters, photographers, and celebrities. She was practically royalty. And, to top it all off, she was an activist and humanitarian – an overall model citizen. If you asked the people, they would say that Ginevra Malfoy was nothing short of perfect.

Then, why did perfection feel so lonely? If she was perfect, shouldn't she be exempt from loneliness? From the pain and vulnerability that often crashed down on her once a month, like it did now, on the floor of her private bathroom. It had been a month since her last breakdown in the dining room. It was a cycle. At the beginning of every month, the memories came back. It was the only time she let them in. No matter where she was, she would sit alone, and bear them all; she would face the reality of her life, and sink lower into self-pity till someone came looking for her, or until Draco came home. She was always careful to hide her breakdowns from him.

Today, it had come later than she expected. It was almost dark before the memories started to slither in; before the voices became less muffled, and the lights more stark...

_Her own scream pierced her ears as her world wobbled, then faded to black._

_The scene changed, and now she was in a white room, people running around her, fussing. Her head hurt. She could hear people outside. She was lying on a bed, the stark white light overhead hurting her eyes as she squinted to get a better look. Where was she? _

_Once again, the memories swirled, and now she was looking Draco, his feathery blond hair framing his haunted eyes, flowers in hand. He looked so empty; she could see dried tears on his cheeks. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong –_

"NO! STOP, stop..." Ginny screamed, cradling her head in her hands.

She was staring at beige marble now, her husband's defeated face still fresh in her mind. Sitting there, on the cold marble floor, Ginny wondered how was it that this is what her life had come to be. She used to be so different; she had so much more life in her, even after she lost her job and became a committee member, she had drive, she had passion. To everyone else, even her parents, Ginny seemed like she still did. But here, in the confines of her home, she admitted that she was lost. To the world she was perfect; to the servants cordial and cold; towards her husband, she was detached and polite. To herself, however, Ginny was nothing more than a shadow of the woman she once was. She was lost and lonely, with no way back to wherever it was she came from. Her life was well in order, yet completely shattered. How could there be chaos in such perfection, coldness in such warm and caring hearts?

She didn't know. And, so she cried – for pieces of her lost world that seemed to be gone forever; for the empty shell of her life that was once filled with passion and love, for feelings that once resided in her now cold heart. She cried for a husband she yearned to touch, for the passing of child they never got to know, for the crumpled roses in her armoire that were never delivered. Her tears were shed for what might have been, and for the hope that someday, it still could be.

Could they go back there? Could they return from this cold, strange place back to their old lives, where everything was so much nicer, simpler? And, more importantly, did she even want to?

Even as she rehashed the questions in her head over and over again, deep down, Ginny knew that it was not possible. The past – as unpleasant as it had been – had happened, and there was no way to undo it, nor deny it. All they could do now was move forward, like they'd been trying to for the last five years, never really getting anywhere. After the initial blow had been delivered, and the shock had worn off, they had tried. For a while, they'd attended couple's therapy – after all, who could blame them? If anything, their image and position demanded they seek help, and set a good example. Every week, they'd pile into the therapist's office, chattering about their lives, and what had bothered them this week, and how they planned on handling their current problems. It had worked too, for a while. For a few weeks, they'd pretend that everything was as it used to be, that they hadn't really lost a part of their lives, that they were still intact. And then, just as they'd begun convincing themselves, something would happen and set them off again, back into their own shells.

After a while, the repeated cycle of failure became too much. Draco claimed to be much too busy with work to attend any more sessions, and that was the end of couple's therapy. A few weeks after that, they emerged in public, holding hands, looking as happy as people had once seen them, before this whole unpleasant ordeal began. Soon, the people forgot the tragedy, mentioning it only in whispers when telling the story of the great lovers, and how much they had suffered to get to their current positions in life.

The more time that passed, the farther Ginny and Draco shrunk back into their shells, pushing forth Lady and Lord Malfoy. That was what they were to the world. The real lovers – Ginny and Draco – were long lost. Ginny only came out once a month, and Draco was never seen; at least, not by her.

Wiping away tears, Ginny stood up, taking a deep breath and smoothing her robes. Even as she surveyed her tear-streaked face in the mirror, Lady Malfoy's cool, calculated mask slid back into place. All she needed was a glamour charm, and nobody would know any different. The door to their adjoining bedroom opened, and then, with a soft _click_, it closed.

_Draco's home._

Quickly fixing her hair and performing the charm, Ginny walked to the door, determination building with every step. She was going to talk to him; she was going to make him see that their marriage was in shambles, that they still needed help. As her fingers wrapped around the golden doorknob, she prayed that she wouldn't lose her nerve like she did every time.

_I can do this. I have to._

Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door, and stepped out into the room. She wouldn't falter this time. She couldn't.

* * *

_**A/N: So, what'd you guys think? I know this one was short, and there wasn't much action, but it was a necessary one. Now that the stage is all set, Draco will make an appearence in the next chapter, and journey will begin. Please review and let me know what you think! **_

_**xoxo**_

_**LovingEmerald~**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"_She knows the noises in her mind._

_Nothing's left but,_

_Screaming silence "_

_- After All_ by Delirium.

* * *

He was sitting on the bed, tugging at his socks, his shirt and pants already discarded across the room. His shiny blond hair fell into his eyes, a frown upon his red lips. He was still as beautiful as she remembered. Her resolve started to waver as she approached him, teeth tugging at her lower lip nervously.

She saw his muscles stiffen as he felt her approach, and her resolve all but ran out the door when he looked up at her, his cold gray eyes locking onto her brown ones.

"Ginevra," he nodded politely. His civility was like a cold stab in her confidence. She couldn't face him now.

"Hello, Draco. How was your day?" she asked as she did every night.

It was the only routine interaction they had left now. The only voluntary words they said to each other, though, even these were obligatory. As if some mad scientist was tracking their every move, even in the privacy of their bedroom, making sure Lord and Lady Malfoy still had a perfect marriage, that they were still amiable, never mind the absence of passion, love; those things were for fools. People only cared about their illusion, and so it had to remain intact. They had to play house.

"Good. We made some progress on the international treaty with Japan. The outlook seems promising."

He replied, sliding into the covers. He didn't sleep in his boxers anymore. The pyjama pants that she had once tried so hard to get him to wear were now hanging from his hips. He was covering up in front of her. He no longer tried to touch her. He wasn't interested.

"I trust your charity luncheon went well?"

"Yes," Ginny replied softly, sliding in next to him, taking care to avoid his touch. "It was as I had expected, thank you for asking."

He nodded and was about to turn out the light when she did something unexpected.

"Draco," she said, breaking away from the script.

They always only asked two questions, only answered two; no more no less. So what was she doing, talking to him out of sorts? More importantly, what was she to say now? She had called out to him on an impulse.

_I guess my resolve didn't __completely__ leave me as I'd initially thought,_ she mused.

Feeling rather stupid, she said the only thing that made sense at the moment: "I'm glad you made progress with the treaty."

He looked at her oddly for a moment, and then, after another confused glance, he nodded and turned off the lights, drowning the room in darkness.

* * *

Long after he thought she had fallen asleep, the words slipped from his lips: "Good night, Ginny."

Beside him, she thought it was just a dream.

* * *

_**A/N: Okay, so what do you guys think of my Draco? Like him, dont like him? Please review and let know what you think! A big thank you to all you guys who've been reviewing for this story, it means a lot! THanks! =D**_

_**xoxo**_

_**Loving_Emerald~**_


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

"_After all she has nothing inside  
No good to give  
No meaning to live.  
The mist engulfed tonight,  
Every single star."_

_- After All _by Delirium

* * *

Gray eyes stared into darkness, thinking. His chest rose and fell as measured bouts of air were breathed in and out, deceiving anyone in vicinity to think him asleep. Beside him, his wife lay quietly, her deep breaths fooling even him. He couldn't sleep tonight. Not that he ever did sleep properly these days; it was the sheer exhaustion that usually forced his body into slumber. Work was tiring. These days, everything seemed tiring, even his life... What was his life? He didn't seem to do much besides sit behind his desk and listen to people to talk about seemingly irrelevant things, or go to some Ministry function or another; his wife always stood obediently beside him as they posed for photos. He knew she didn't like being there any more than he did, but it was necessary. They had a silent agreement – they would act like a loving couple in public, trade few kisses here and there, keep up the facade. In private, there were like this – cold, and distant.

_Power comes with great responsibility,_ Dumbledore had told him before he took his oath at the inauguration. At the time, he'd thought it was just some wise crack that was so characteristic of the old man, that he didn't give it second thought. But it was now, as he lay in his lavish bedroom, with his back turned to his wife that he realized how true those words rang – how real they had become, and how deeply the responsibility had scarred his life.

He resisted an urge to rub the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to wake her. They lay like this every night, worked around each other every morning – the same script repeating over and over like a broken record. But today, they'd moved forward. Somehow, she had broken away from the script. So, why couldn't he?

Before he could ponder the thought any longer, he felt her stir beside him. He held his breath, hoping she wouldn't notice him. She turned to face him. Her movements were hesitant as she lifted her hand, and for a split second, Draco was almost afraid she had figured out his ruse.

_What is she doing? _His mind screamed anxiously, but he stayed still, waiting to see what she'd do.

Her movements were so unexpected, so rare, that he'd almost forgotten how often they used to surprise each other before. Almost.

Her hand crept closer. It hovered over the curve of his shoulder, as if unsure of whether or not to descend. Then, finally, his skin was covered with hers and he was surprised to find that despite all her coldness, she was still warm as she used to be. His shoulders tensed automatically. He cursed himself for it later because she seemed to take it as rejection, quickly jerking her hand back and turning away from him, as if nothing had happened at all. Her breaths came steady again – in and out, in and out.

Draco was almost afraid to turn around, fearing that if he did, and if she was still awake, it would lead to a conversation he'd rather not have right now. So, he stayed there, pretending to be asleep, as she did the same. But, even as his breathing resumed, Draco couldn't help but wonder.

_Why did she touch me? Was she dreaming?_

Yet, as the questions flowed through his mind, he knew her actions were not a by-product of sleep. Even in slumber, they were careful to keep up their walls. They never touched more than necessary, not since that horrible night five years ago. Then again, neither of them slept well to begin with, so keeping up the charade was never too difficult.

So, what had changed today? If she was indeed awake, why had she decided to change the game? Did something happen that he was not aware of? The questions baffled him as the night stretched on. As exhaustion finally overtook his body, and his eyelids became too heavy, he realized that she had been awake. Lying beside him, breathing slowly in and out, his wife had been awake.

_Just like me.

* * *

_

They had touched.

More accurately, she had touched him. Ginny still couldn't figure out what had possessed her to reach out to him last night. First, she had broken the unwritten pattern of their conversation; then, she'd "woken up" in middle of night, and bloody well touched him. She could still remember the feel of his warm skin underneath her fingers, the sense of familiarity the touch brought. In that moment, it had seemed so natural that she be touching him, and for an instant, she'd wondered why she hadn't been doing this all along. Then, his muscles went rigid under her touch, and the memories flooded back to her. She knew why; she had always known.

As she sat on the bathtub, she stared at her reflection in the huge mirror that adorned the wall, suddenly noticing wrinkles on her forehead and around the mouth. When had this happened? She couldn't remember the last time she had really looked at herself, instead of the short glances she took before going out to balls or charity events. Had it really been that long?

Sighing, she walked out of the washroom, and was about to go into the closet when something caught her eye: a small jewellery box sat on her vanity with a note on top. Draco had left in the morning before she awoke – as always – but she was sure this hadn't been there before she went into the bathroom. Curiously, she picked up the box.

_Ginevra, _

_I thought this would go perfectly with your dress for tonight's ball. Please, let me know if you would like to change it; I will send the jeweller over._

_Draco._

It was short and impossibly formal, but it was a note. He never sent a note. Hell, he barely bought her jewellery anymore. Usually, he sent the jeweller over with his secretary, and asked her to pick something she liked. So, what had changed? The confused expression she had seen on his face yesterday flashed in her mind. Was this because of what happened last night?

Shaking her head slightly, Ginny opened the box. A small gasp escaped her lips as she took in the exquisite choker, studded with white and yellow canary diamonds, topped off by small stud earrings. As the stones glittered in sunlight, she knew the set would go perfectly with her deep crimson gown. If he had sent the jeweller over like every time, she knew she would have chosen this piece.

But, how had he known? The dress had only arrived late last night, and he hadn't been in the closet since then, had he? At any rate, he didn't usually go into her side of the dressing room. She remembered hanging the gown over her mirror, admiring the fitted top and mermaid silhouette, puffed slightly at the bottom with stitched draping. Pierre really had outdone himself this time. The dress was magnificent.

Had Draco really bothered to check her dress before buying her the jewellery himself?

_Does this necklace mean something? And if so, what?_

Putting down the box, she picked up the note and put it safely in her armoire. It was 10 o'clock and she had four hours before she needed to start getting ready for the ball. Deciding to stay inside for today, she went over to the large window that overlooked the gardens and the Mansion's sprawling fields. As she sat in the window seat, fiddling with her wedding ring, Ginny wondered if there was still hope.

* * *

_**A/N: Okay, so here it is! I know it's a bit of a late update, but I'm in the middle of exams right now, so this'll be the only update for the next week or so. I think in this chapter, we've sort of finished setting the stage for their reuinion, the deed has been done, and now we start to see the consequences of Ginny's actions. I hope you liked it! I wrote the first four chapters in one sitting, so I'm going to have to start writing new chapters now. Please read and review!**_

_**xoxo**_

_**Loving_Emerald~**_

_**Go here to see Ginny's dress: for some reason I can't post the link in the chapter, so go to my profile to get the link! It's Keira Knightley's red oscar dress.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE  
**

"_A hundred days had made me older  
since the last time that I've saw your pretty face.  
_

_But all the miles had separate  
Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face.  
_

_I'm here without you baby,  
but you're still on my lonely mind.  
I think about you baby,  
and I dream about you all the time.  
I'm here without you baby,  
but you're still with me in my dreams;  
and tonight, it's only you and me."_

- From "_Here without You"_ by 3 Doors Down

* * *

Lord Draconis Lucius Malfoy, master of the Malfoy lands, owner and CEO of Malfoy Corps, and – most importantly – the Minister of Magic of Britain sat in his cherry wood panelled office, his feet on the intricately carved wooden table and head tipped back in his leather chair, supported by his arms. His eyes were closed and a gentle snore escaped his mouth every now and then, assuring his assistant that his boss was indeed still amongst the living. It had been a slow day at the office today, what with the union workers strike in Japan, and some sort of a festival in Eastern Europe. Draco had come in a bit late, having made a short stop at the jewellers for Ginevra's necklace. By the time he got in he had missed two of his morning appointments; but no matter, those were inconsequential. He wasn't a (pleasant) morning person, so he always had the less important meetings scheduled in the morning.

He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, laying awake for hours thinking about his wife's chaste touch. It was four in the morning by time his eyelids closed, and a mere two hours later he was awoken by the alarm, signalling the beginning of yet another day. So, he had decided to use his lunch hour as naptime, his half eaten salad forgotten on the desk.

As yet another snore escaped his lips there was sharp rapping on the door. Waking up abruptly, his hands flew askance for a second before the surroundings of his office came into view. Rubbing his eyes, he performed a glamour charm on his face, fixed his tie and took a sip of water from the glass on his desk before speaking: "Come in".

A timid looking man dressed impeccably in a white dress shirt, bow-tie, and black trousers entered the room. He was a skinny man, his black hair neatly parted on the side and slicked back; in his hands he clutched a thick brown leather notebook. Stepping in, he closed the door behind him with one hand, and pushed up his thick round black glasses up his nose with the other.

"It's 3:30 pm, sir. You wanted me to wake – er, I mean, remind you that lunch hour was over."

Draco simply nodded. He looked at the clock – 3:30 pm as his assistant had said – and turned back to the man.

"Renhald, floo my house and leave a message for my wife that I shall be home at 4:30. We have a ball to attend."

The man eagerly noted down the message. "Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?"

With a shake of his head Draco dismissed Renhald, and returned to his thoughts. All day long, memories of his wife and her touch last night had haunted him. It was as if she had branded him, for that spot on his shoulder still felt weird, tender.

_Why did she touch me, anyway?_ The question popped in his head for the hundredth time that day.

Over the course of the last nine hours, he had concocted a crazy theory that perhaps, she was reaching out to him. Her touch had sent shivers down to the deepest cores of his body, and he wondered if it had the same effect on her. The warmth of her skin still lingered. She hadn't touched him in years.

He idly wondered if it was unhealthy to obsess so much over a small gesture. But, when had their relationship ever been healthy? Certainly not since that incident five years ago. Even today, he couldn't say it out loud. He felt like a coward; the guilt was unbearable at times. Everyone around him knew not to mention it, and other ministers that he met with were briefed beforehand not to talk to him about his personal life. This was business. This was his responsibility. This was his life.

Shaking his head, he went back to that blissful memory again, drawing an odd sort of comfort from it. This was his drug. These small touches of Ginny's – usually for the benefit of the public – kept him sane; a voluntary gesture was almost euphoric. After years and years of shaking cold hands and doling out fake hugs and kisses, her simple warm caress had made him feel alive again. Last night, Ginny – yes, Ginny, not Lady Ginevra, as he liked to call the cold counterpart to his warm, sweet wife – had awoken a part of him that he long believed to be dead and buried. Only she could light his skin on fire with a simple touch, only she could ignite such hope in his heart as she had yesterday.

And, it was this hope that had compelled him to buy her the necklace. In the morning, as he racked his brain for ways to reach out to her as she had to him, he had come across her dress in their closet. Hung over her mirror, the dress was a deep shade of crimson that would look lush against her pale skin and amber locks. That's when the idea hit. He was planning on sending over the jeweller for her that afternoon, anyway. What better way to signal that he was willing to work things out again than to buy her jewellery, just like he used to? He had gotten ready in a hurry and apparated to jewellers' in France.

**-- Flashback --**

"_Mr. Malfoy, how good to see you!" the man had jovially proclaimed, hurrying over to serve his wealthiest customer._

_Draco nodded. "I need a necklace and some earrings for my wife. We have a ball to attend tonight. Here's a sketch of her dress," he said, pulling out the said sketch from his cloak pocket. He had nicked it off of her dressing table. "I want something golden, to bring out the gold in her hair." _

"_Of course, of course" the man nodded looking down at the sketch. "Hmm... I dare say that is a brilliant colour, risky with her colouring, but with the right jewels..." he was muttering as he scanned the shop. "Oh! Here, I believe this is perfect, Mr. Malfoy." _

_The jeweller set down a heavy velvet box on the counter, and opened it to reveal a brilliant diamond choker, studded with white and yellow canary diamonds, all spun together with threads of yellow gold. The matching earrings were similarly fashioned studs. It looked exquisite and he was sure that it would look brilliant on his wife._

"_What do you think?" the man asked hopefully. He was good, and that's why Mr. Malfoy paid him so well._

_Draco smirked. "I'll take it."_

**-- End Flashback -- **

Draco smiled as he thought of the necklace. It was exactly like something she would have worn before, when he knew her. He had hoped that her tastes hadn't changed much. Looking up he noticed that it was 4:20 PM. Too eager to wait any longer, he decided that ten minutes early wouldn't be that big of an inconvenience for his wife. Picking up his suitcase, he gave the office one last glance before apparating home.

* * *

Ginny had been wandering around the manor when she ended up at her parlour. She had claimed this room as her own when she'd first moved in here, refurnishing the entire room, keeping only a large beige sofa and a white grand piano that currently stood in the middle of the room. It used to belong to his mother, Draco had informed her. She'd heard Narcissa play before; her mother-in-law was truly gifted.

Sliding onto the white bench, she ran her fingers along the keys, wondering what song to play. It was 3:30 pm. She still had an hour before Draco came home, and half an hour before she had to start getting ready for the ball. She usually changed before him, so he could have the room to himself when he arrived. It was another one of their ill-conceived, unspoken rules – they were barely ever naked in front of each other anymore. There was an upwelling of sadness in her chest at the thought, and she had to breathe deeply push it back down. There was no time for tears right now.

Aimlessly, her fingers pressed down on the keys, one after another, until the abrupt notes became smoother and turned into a song.

* * *

He landed in the foyer with a _pop_. A house elf appeared promptly, taking his cloak and suitcase from him.

"Would master like Whitby to get anything for him?" the elf squeaked.

"Bring me a glass of brandy with ice up to my office," he said dismissively, making his way to the stairs.

He heard it just as he was about to ascend. The soft notes floated in the air, reaching his ears like the smell of roses to one's nose. As he held his breath, the sound seemed to grow louder, and he wondered how he had not heard it before. The song seemed to be in crescendo. Stepping away from the stairs, he made his way down the hallway on the right, following the music to the back the house till he was standing in front Ginny's personal parlour.

She was sitting in front of the white piano, her head bent and eyes closed as she played the familiar notes of Gounod's Ave Maria. Her fingers seemed to have a life of their own. As he slowly released his breath, taking in her beauty and her music, Draco's mind wandered back to the first time he had heard her play this song...

– **Flashback – **

_It was her first night over at the Manor, a mere three weeks into their relationship. They'd been pissed drunk the night before, and passed out on in one of living rooms before they could make it upstairs, a tangle of limbs on the sofa._

_He had woken up to the sound of Bach (she'd later argued that it was Gounod who made the song beautiful as it was), blearily opening his eyes to see Ginny sitting at the white grand piano wearing his crumpled shirt from the night before. Her eyes were closed, her fiery red locks spilling over her shoulder – stark against the white of his shirt – her head tipped back slightly. Nipping her lower lip between her teeth, she played with such concentration and feeling that he couldn't help but stare at her. She was a vision for sore eyes._

_It was in that moment that he had realized that she was special. Never had anyone made him feel so content, so happy, and kept him as intrigued for such a long period of time as she had. He had never really paid her any attention in school – they were in different years, different houses, and different social circles. The only time he remembered meeting her was in his second year, in Diagon Alley when she had defended Potter. Her hair was brighter then, straighter. Now, it clouded her face in sleek waves, falling just below her shoulder blade, the colour a dark auburn. It was like red wine – luscious and inviting._

_He was so lost in his musings that he didn't notice her stop playing. She was looking at him now, her face a mixture of shyness and amusement._

"_Hi," she'd smiled, crawling over next to him on the magically enlarged sofa, her brown eyes sparkling as they looked into his own._

"_Hey," he'd smiled back, lifting his hand and running it through her silky hair. _

_She was beautiful._

– **End of Flashback –**

Just as it had happened that day, he was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice her song end. Snapping out of his daze, he looked up to find her staring at him.

"Ginevra," he nodded, moving into the room.

"Hello, Draco," she said, her hand frozen over the keys.

This was her private parlour... what was he doing here?

"I didn't hear you come in... did you finish early today?" she asked with a hint of uncertainty that betrayed her cool demeanour.

Draco settled himself in the beige sofa across from her, the same one he had laid on all those years ago.

"No, actually; it is 4:30," he frowned. "Did Renhald not inform you of the time of my return?"

"Oh, yes, he did actually. I... got carried away, I suppose," she gestured weakly towards the piano, looking slightly flustered. His arrival had been so unexpected that she hadn't gotten a chance to fix her hair nor to perform a glamour charm, at the very least. She could only imagine the state of her right now. She'd finished her song, and opened her eyes to see him standing there. There hadn't had a chance to bring Ginevra out – as he liked to call her. There was only Ginny now, unsure, afraid, and grappling for a mask.

He only nodded in response, oblivious to her inner conflict.

They sat in awkward silence, staring anywhere but at each other. They were rarely alone together during the day, so when times like these arose, they were at a loss for conversation. These times were never planned, so there was no script.

Draco stared at a spot above her head, absently twirling the glass of brandy that had appeared on the side table the moment he sat down.

_Well it's good to know that at least the house elves haven't lost their touch_, he mused. Flickering a brief glance toward his wife, he saw that she was sitting stiffly on the bench, looking down at her hands in an uncharacteristic display of unease.

_Am I making her uncomfortable? _That wasn't good.

Ginny studied her nails, fighting the urge to tap her foot. Nervousness was never attractive on her. In addition to not having her mask or glamour charm, she realized with a drop in her stomach that she had also forgotten to change. Now, it was 4:30 and her husband was home, both of them still unchanged into their ball clothes. If possible, the sinking feeling in her stomach increased; she knew what was coming. After fidgeting with her hands for about five minutes, she heard him speak.

"You still play well," he said. "Like I remember."

The last part was whispered, perhaps the words slipping through his lips before he had a chance to cage them. It made her look up in surprise. Her heart raced painfully in her chest, thumping so loud she was sure he could hear it. Had he just paid her a compliment? Was he making an effort again? Her carefully constructed analysis of his gift took off again in full speed, her mind running in a thousand different directions.

Schooling her features into a mask of indifference – she had picked up a few of his habits in these past ten years – she looked up at him, only to see him staring off into space, a glass of brandy sitting idly in his hands.

_When did he get that?_

When her eyes bore into him, he snapped out of his stupor and focused on her again, smiling briefly before downing the brandy.

"_Like I remember."_

The words played in her mind over and over again, and she couldn't stop herself from looking at him. He winced as the alcohol burned his throat, and she stared in wonderment.

_Does he still remember... that first morning in the Manor? Could he __possibly__ be referring to that?_

Her eyes flickered to the beige sofa he was sitting on. A strange warmth suddenly flooded her chest, and for the first time in months, she had to fight back a smile. She was about to say something when a loud _pop _disrupted her thoughts.

Winky, the house elf, looked up at her with big black eyes. "Mistress wanted Winky to remind her when it was 5 o'clock. Yous have to have your make up done for the Ball now, Mistress."

She sighed, and smiled kindly at the creature. "Thank you, Winky. Please let Miranda know that I'll be a bit late, and then lay out my clothes, I shall be there in a minute."

The elf disappeared and she returned her attention to her husband. Now what would they do?

He spoke first.

"I'll let you take the bedroom. Have the elf send my clothes to the guest room on our floor," he said, standing up and walking to the door.

An unexpected pang of disappointment went through her chest, but she nodded politely.

"Of course," she replied, before following him out of the room.

* * *

_**A/N: Okay, so I wrote this chapter pretty quickly actually, I just had trouble proof-reading it and getting it out (end of exams laziness is bad). So, here it is! This one actually doesn't have a quote from "After All" because I felt this quote from "Here without You" was more appropriate for their situation. I have the next chapter sketched out, have to start writing now. **_

_**What'd you guys think? Please READ AND REVIEW!! It makes my day. Thank you so much to all the readers who have been reviewing – you guys rock!**_

_**PS: If you want to listen to the version of Ave Maria I was thinking about when I wrote this go here **__**(without the spaces!**__**)**__**: http: // sites. google. com/ site/ muffinsmusings/ hp-fanfiction**__** - you can download the song at the bottom of the page.**_

_**xoxo**_

_**Loving_Emerald~**_


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

"_Do you remember me?_

_Like I remember you?_

_Do you spend your life,_

_Going back in your mind to that time?_

…_How, How could we go wrong?_

_It was so good and now it's gone._

_And I pray at night that our paths soon will cross,_

_And what we had isn't lost_

_Cause you're always right here in my thoughts._

_Somebody wants you,_

_Somebody needs you,_

_Somebody dreams about you every single night._

_Somebody can't breathe without you, it's lonely;_

_Somebody hopes that one day you will see,_

_That somebody's me."_

– "_Somebody's me"_ by Enrique Iglesias.

* * *

They climbed the staircase in silence, Draco behind Ginevra, putting one foot in front of another with practised precision. They were careful not to touch, though with the grand staircases of Malfoy Manor, it really wasn't that much of a problem. Eventually, after climbing up three staircases, they reached their personal floor. Walking down the hallway, she stopped in front of their bedroom door, and he stopped across from her, both unsure of how to proceed. There was an awkward tension in the air as they stood, Ginny's hands clasped in front of hers, eyes wandering, and Draco's hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared at the door behind her head.

As her eyes flitted over Draco's hair, she noticed – perhaps, for the millionth time – how it glowed in the light of the lamps, shadowing his face at the cheekbones, making him look more handsome than usual. The hallway they stood in was decorated in dark browns and rich crèmes, with small crystal pendant lights hanging from the ceiling that cast the favourable yellow light. The floor was covered with a crème and burgundy Persian rug, dark wooden floors peeking out on either side. Camembert coloured doors with golden, goblin-made handles lined the hallway, making them look exquisite. It was all very romantic, really, as even the air-freshening charms were made to smell sensual. At least, that's how Ginny had originally designed it. They had disagreed on that one too. Draco had wanted to leave everything the way it was – dark green, black, and gray everywhere – but, it was just too dark for her. It was a beautiful house, she'd said; it needed some colour to bring out the details. He had an emotional attachment to the decor, however, having grown up with it, and so it had taken weeks of coercion before he finally relented. Of course, it wasn't without compromise. He wanted to keep his childhood rooms the same, and so, the second floor stood untouched, decorated in the same emerald greens and classy grays that Narcissa Malfoy had chosen decades ago, waiting for the next heir.

The silence stretched on. When it became apparent that neither of them was going to make the first move, Ginny decided that they were a little too old and not nearly as flirtatious for that game. She opened their bedroom door and turned to look at her husband.

"So, I'll meet you in the foyer in about an hour or so?" Her eyes looked directly at him now.

Draco nodded, his eyes locking onto hers, his hands still in his pockets. "Yes, we will be apparating there tonight."

She nodded in response, and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her with a sigh. As she leaned against it, she heard his footsteps fade as he walked down the hall, and into the spare bedroom.

They had managed thirty minutes alone together – thirty minutes of being themselves, coming out of their shell a little. Her lips turned up in a small smile. Maybe it was a sign.

Pushing herself off of the door, she walked to the bathroom, throwing her wand on the bed, where it landed beside the dress Winky had laid out for her. Once inside, she stripped off her clothes, and carefully put them inside the hamper; Draco never bothered to do stuff like that. His usual response to such things was: "That's what the house elves are for".

Shaking her head, she stepped in the shower, and turned the knob on the wall. As the warm water washed over her body, she felt her muscles relax, and a content sigh escaped her lips. It had been quite a day today, and she was in for another long night.

* * *

Down the hall, Draco stood in the guest bedroom shower with the water beating down on his tired back. Damp hair stuck to his neck as he lathered his chest with soap, his mind wandering to his wife.

What was she doing, he wondered. Was she down the hall thinking about him like he was her? Was she in the shower, too, with her wavy hair wet and her skin glistening in the steam?

That was a dangerous avenue to look down upon, he discovered, because as soon as the thought entered his mind, memories of them together in the shower overtook his thoughts. The way she would run her hands through his wet hair and down his chest; they way her soft skin would feel under his fingertips as he pressed into her, the heat of her body against his, her lips on his own, her legs around his waist...

Shaking his head, Draco twisted the knob on the tiled wall. There was no use thinking these things now. Sexual frustration was bad for health, and the less he tried to think about it, the better. So, as the cold water prickled his skin, he directed his energies towards turning his thoughts away from his wife, and towards less arousing matters.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Ginny stepped out of the shower. Picking up a fluffy white towel, she wrapped it around herself, and walked out to the bedroom where Winky stood waiting for her.

"Will Mistress need any help getting into the dress?" the elf asked, always eager to help.

Ginny shook her head. "No, Winky, not right now," she said, at which the elf's enthusiasm seemed to deflate. "Though, I might need you to zip me up later," she said with a smile, and Winky's eyes lit up once again. "Don't forget to send Draco's robes over to the guest bedroom."

"Yes, Mistress," the elf replied before disappearing with a _pop_.

Picking up the dress and her wand from the bed, she walked into the dressing room, closing the door behind her. Taking it off the hanger, she stepped into the dress, carefully sliding it up her body. After the bodice was in place, and her hand was through the one shoulder, she waved her wand to dry her hair; another wave to put the towel away in the hamper in the corner.

Walking back into the bedroom, she went to her vanity, sitting down on the chair in front of it. Winky had already returned.

"You can zip me up now, Winky," she said to the elf, who hurried over eagerly. As the elf worked her magic, Ginny felt the smooth silk of the dress hug her body. Even after all these years, the luxury of it still amazed her. It used to feel surreal, at first, when she'd first started dating Draco and going to his society events with him. They were like fairytale balls, she'd once mused. And, Draco was her prince. He certainly used to make her feel like a princess.

A flicker of light in the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she turned to see the necklace Draco had given her this morning sitting on the vanity, sparkling in the light of the sunset that filtered through the window beside her. Outside, the sky was painted orange and red and purple, the sun sinking lower into the horizon.

_Winky must've put it out with the dress._

With this choker, he had made her feel like a princess even today. Running her fingers over the shining diamonds, she wondered if it would look just as beautiful on her as it did in the box.

_I wonder how Draco will react when he sees this on me,_ she mused. _Will he react at all?_

Before, when they were oh-so-in-love, he would surprise her with lingerie often, and it would arouse him immensely when she wore it for him.

"_I can't wait to get that off of you," he'd say, his eyes dark with lust, his hands burning her skin._

She wondered if this would somehow be the same. Would it please him to see her wearing this necklace he had gotten for her? Would it make him see her as he had not for the past five years? Would he want to touch her, and would he indeed sweep in and kiss her passionately as he once used to, his hands holding her close to his body, his tongue tasting her mouth, hers in his?

Shaking her head, she willed the fantasies to go away.

_Stop getting carried away, _she chastised herself. _Fantasizing about getting snogged like some impressionable teenage girl. _She snorted at the thought. _Draco may want to rekindle our relationship, but seeing has how he couldn't even bear to get changed in the same room as me, I think a snogging session is far from his mind._

Heaving another sigh, she slouched against her chair, tears prickling her eyes. How had things ended up like this? Here she was, ten years into her marriage, fantasizing about making out with her own husband, trying to revitalize her nonexistent sex life. They never told you about stuff like this when you got engaged; they told you about the fights, the compromises, and even infidelity, but no one ever pointed out things like dying sex lives nor the hounding press or the fakery you'd have to put up with. No, that was never discussed.

_But, then again, _she thought._ Our problems are quite unique. We've bound ourselves down with such burdens that maybe this was bound to happen. Maybe, this is just another burden._

She looked out the window again, having noticed the light grow dimmer. The sun had almost disappeared now, its fierce orange fading into the night-blue sky. The clouds had dissolved. The silver grays in between could've been the colour of his eyes, she realized. Or, maybe it was a muddled brown. She never really knew.

Swiping at her eyes, she breathed deeply. Tonight was going to be testy as it was. She didn't want to ruin it with her unrealistic expectations and inevitable disappointment.

_Take what you get, and run with it._ Her mother's advice had always been helpful.

* * *

There was a soft knock on the door. Ginny took a deep breath and sat straighter, placing her hands in her lap. With a flick of her wand, she got rid of the tear tracks; there was no point in doing a glamour charm now, Miranda would re-do the entire thing, anyways. With another flick, she lit all the lamps in the room before answering: "Come in".

A thin, middle-aged woman stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. Her black hair was pulled up tightly in a neat bun, her dove gray cashmere robes setting off her dark skin. She crossed the room to the little nook where the vanity stood, carrying a make-up bag in one hand and a wand in the other. Her face was covered in subtle make-up, her hands manicured, and her teeth a pearly white as she smiled at her client.

"Mrs. Malfoy! How lovely to see you," she greeted, swooping down to kiss the air beside Ginevra's cheek. "How have you been?"

"Miranda," Ginevra smiled graciously. "I'm very well, thank you. I hope you're doing fine as well?"

"Yes, yes, thank you, I am," Miranda smiled once more. Her gaze fell on Ginevra's dress. "Oh my! Is that a Pierre Moreau dress? You certainly look beautiful in it," she gushed, putting down her supplies on the table.

"Yes, it is. I think he's really outdone himself this time, don't you?"

"Of course, of course... I have to say, it's breathtaking, what with that daring colour... well, it's a good thing I have just the colours to go with it!" she said with a twinkle in her eye. For some reason Ginny had yet to fathom, Miranda always seemed to get excited at the prospect of applying makeup, even though she'd probably been doing it for the last twenty years or so. "Can I see what jewellery you'll be wearing, please?"

Ginevra gestured to the necklace on the vanity, now shining in the lamplight. Miranda's eyes grew wide as she took in the exquisite choker, and its matching earrings.

"My my! It seems your husband has done even better, Madam! Oh, I think I have the perfect gold sheer blush, maybe a touch of gold thread in your hair? No, no, that would be a bit tacky. Hmm..." she started digging through her bag, pulling out this colour and that as she rambled on.

Half an hour later, Ginny stood in front of the vanity, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was done up in a loose French Twist, with a few tendrils framing her face. Her eyes were lined in dark gray liner, her lashes painted with black mascara. Her lips wore a nude pearly lipstick, very light with just a hint of colour and gloss to make them stand out. The sheer gold blush made her cheeks glow, and the bronzer on her shoulders made them look more toned. To put it in Miranda's words, she looked "Purrfect!"

"I don't know how your husband is going to keep his hands off of you tonight, Mrs. Malfoy! Oh, you two will look so wonderful together," she had gushed, clapping her hands together and giving Ginny one last look of approval before departing.

It had made Ginny smile at the irony. _Because, really, the question is, when will he get his hands ON me?_ She had thought sourly.

Now, standing here, she could see that really did look very pretty today. The diamond choker that hugged her throat sparkled brilliantly in the light by the mirror, and her earrings shone just as brightly. The dress fit her like a glove, and the soft satin felt luxurious against her skin, making her look and feel like the Lady she was, down to every inch. Her elegance rivalled her mother-in-law's, and Ginny smiled at the thought. If she really looked this nice, then maybe the one man she had been trying allure for the last few years might take notice. Maybe, just maybe, she pondered, Draco Malfoy would get his hands on her, after all.

* * *

The man of her affections stood at the bottom of the staircase, casually leaning against the banister. He was dressed in perfectly ironed, pristine black dress robes, underneath which he wore equally black pants with a white dress shirt, and a black and gray silk tie. His silky blonde hair was neatly combed back, a stray strand falling into his gray eyes every once in a while, making him look like an Adonis.

The foyer he stood in was large and richly decorated with a huge gilded mirror dominating the wall on his left. On his right stood a carved wooden settee with plush, light blue cushions, and a Van Goh painting hanging on the wall above. The walls themselves were coloured a warm beige that went nicely with the light marble floors, and dark wood of the staircase. From the middle of the ceiling hung a large chandelier, its light shining on Draco's dress shoes, making them shine. On his immediate left were a set of double doors that led to a drawing room. The rest of the hallway was fashioned similarly, dimly lit with crown mouldings and portraits hanging on the wall. The staircase he leaned against curved up against the wall, disappearing into the second floor. It was built in mahogany wood, glossy and darkened with age; a crème coloured runner draped over the stairs, making them look luxurious.

He heard her before he saw her. Her footsteps echoed down the empty hallway and against floor as she appeared at the top of the staircase. Taking a deep breath of anticipation, he pushed himself off of the banister, and turned around to face his wife. The sight of her rendered him speechless. She looked like a fiery goddess, floating down the stairs with one hand trailing the handrail, and the other carrying a gold clutch. Her hair was done up, and her dress was one shouldered, showing off her toned shoulders and neck. Her face glowed - whether because of the makeup or the sparkling diamonds, he couldn't tell. Her pale lips were pressed together in a pretty pout that made it hard for him not to run up and kiss her senseless; her dark and alluring eyes certainly didn't help. The crimson dress hugged her body in all the right places, showing off her tiny waist, and just a smidgeon of cleavage that made her look just the right kind of sexy. But nothing stood out more than the brilliant choker that was wrapped loosely around her throat, the diamonds glittering under the chandelier, giving her eyes a sparkle he hadn't seen in a while. He felt like a fourth year again, about to take the prettiest girl at Hogwarts to the Yule Ball. But that wasn't the case. She wasn't just pretty, she was beautiful; in fact, at that moment, he believed she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She was elegant, poised, confident, and beautiful, and best of all, she was _his_ wife, wearing _his_ necklace. The sparkling ring on her left hand was a reassurance of that.

He was in awe. So, when she finally reached the bottom, and stopped in front of him, he could do nothing but stare, taking in the sight of her, his wife, the woman he felt he hadn't seen for years.

A minute passed, and he caught her confused expression.

_Oh. She's waiting for me to say something._

Mentally cursing his incompetence, and blaming his total lack of sex life, he stepped away from her, taking her hand in his.

"Ginevra," he kissed her hand. "You look beautiful," he said, dropping her hand, and giving her a polite smile.

She felt her cheeks grow warmer, and smiled back. "Thank you, Draco. You don't look half bad yourself."

The words left her mouth before she could contemplate them, and it was as she heard herself speak that she realized how flirtatious they sounded. It made her cringe. Maybe she really was reverting to her teenage self… the pressure was bound to get to her someday; she just didn't expect this form of insanity.

Draco, however, didn't miss a beat. He simply chuckled, his lips forming a real smile this time. That made her heart a little lighter. Maybe it wasn't so bad, after all. She breathed in deeply and he slipped his hands into his pockets.

"I see you liked my present," he said, nodding towards the necklace.

She nodded back, bringing a hand up to touch the diamonds. "Yes, it's very beautiful."

Then, after a moment's hesitation, she stepped forward. Using his shoulder as support, she stretched up, brining her lips to his cheek to place a light kiss there.

"Thank you," she whispered, her hot breath tickling his ear. His hands went to her waist tentatively, and a jolt went to her stomach as she came back down. They were so close now, her hands on his shoulder, his on her waist, her breasts pressing into his chest. He was looking down at her and she titled her face up to gaze into his warm eyes, filled with an emotion she couldn't quite place. His cologne reminded her of their earlier, more passionate days, and she couldn't help but remember all the other times he had held her like this; the lust made her a little faint. His lips were just a whisper away, and it would be so easy to lean forward a little, close the space between them and press her lips against his. She could almost feel them now. Draco's thoughts didn't seem to be too different because after a moment of contemplation, his arms pulled her closer, and his face leaned forwards, coming dangerously close to hers.

_He's going to kiss me!_ Alarms went off in her head.

Just as she fluttered her eyes shut and as his nose touched hers, his hot breath on her mouth, lips about to follow, there was a loud _crack!_ of apparition.

Startled, Ginny jumped away from him, tripping on her dress in the process. Had it not been for her husband's arms around her, she would've been sprawled clumsily on the floor. She looked up to thank him, but he was staring at the person – or rather, elf – that had interrupted them with a very irate expression in his face.

"What Bailey?" he spat, one arm still around her.

The elf faltered a little, scared of the murderous expression on his master's face.

"M-master has a Floo call in his office," he said, shaking slightly. "It's urgent."

* * *

**Author's Note:** **_So, here it is! I am so sorry that this chapter was so late. It was supposed to take a week, and then a week turned into a month, and a month turned into two. My excuses are fair, I think ^^". I hit an unfortunate spell of writer's block (you'll know if you checked my LJ), then I got a job which took up a lot of my time, and course enrolment + registration took the other half - all in all, it was a crazy busy two months, and I'm glad I've made it through._**

**_Now, this chapter isn't as well done as I would like, but it's the best that I could shell out without having to wait for another two months for my writer's block to fully disappear. I have to thank every person who's reviewed this story - you guys inspire me to write, so THANK YOU!_**

**_I see a lot of people have been adding this story to "story alert", and I would love to hear what you guys think of this story, so PLEASE REVIEW!!! It makes me write faster :P The intro to the next chapter is already done, but it's an emotionally charged chapter, so it might take a rewrite or so. That being said, my computer goes in for repairs today, so don't expect any updates for the next 10 days, at least._**

**_Hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter. Take care,_**

**_xoxo_**

**_Loving_Emerald~_**


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7  
**

_"After all they shared,_

_How could he simply say no?_

_After all they shared,_

_He turned away from her to go._

_She said she wouldn__'__t cry,_

_That was really just a lie__."_

– _After All_ by Delirium.

* * *

"What Bailey?" he spat, one arm still around her.

The elf faltered a little, scared of the murderous expression on his master's face.

"M-master has a Floo call in his office," he said, shaking slightly. "It's urgent."

Draco sighed, his expression softening a little.

"Is it Renhald?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," the elf nodded, still looking visibly shaken. He hadn't been punished since Master Lucius had the left the house, and Master Draco had always been so good to him… He didn't want to be punished now. He only came because Master's secretary had begged him many times to find his boss; he stressed that it was an emergency, so Bailey had no choice but interrupt Master and the Mistress just as they were about to leave the house. He knew tonight was an important night for them. Everyone in the staff knew, and they always left them alone on such days.

Draco brought up his free hand to rub his forehead. This could not be happening _right now_. It had to be a joke. Alas, Bailey would never deliver false messages, especially not at a time like this.

"Okay. You're dismissed, Bailey," he said to the elf. Breathing in deeply, he turned to his wife, who was still by his side, held there by his arm. Her face was blank. The longing and warmth and lust he had seen just moments ago had disappeared, replaced by her mask of nonchalance.

_Fucking great._

"I… I'll have to see what that is about. I won't be too long, I promise," he said, releasing her from his grip.

She stepped back, and folded her arms in front of her chest. "Don't do this now, Draco. Not today," she whispered, the pleading in her voice betraying her cool demeanour.

He stepped forward at her tone, putting a warm hand on her shoulder. She stiffened under his touch. He looked worried, but she refused to give in to him now, not this time, not again.

"I'll just be a minute, I promise," he reassured her.

_I'm sure_, she thought, but said nothing, mentally scoffing and looking away.

When he received no reply, he bent down and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek before turning around and walking down the hallway. Her eyes followed him as he disappeared in the darkness. When she heard a door bang open, she sighed and sat down on the staircase, preparing for a long wait.

* * *

The door banged open as he walked into the room, stowing his wand into his cloak. He turned to address the man in the fireplace, clenching his teeth before he spoke.

"You better have a damn good reason for interrupting me tonight, Renhald, or you're fired," Draco bit out, his eyes narrowed.

Renhald gulped and pushed his glasses up his nose before spilling out his message in a hurry: "Mr. Malfoy, sir, so sorry to interrupt you – believe me, I didn't want to do it – but we need you. It's about the treaty; there's been a protest outside the Japanese embassy... it – it looks like it might turn violent. They're congregating sir, protesting against the terms of the treaty…"

Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose. Did it ever stop?

"I'm about to escort my wife to a ball, Renhald, can't you handle it? Send in a couple of aurors, have them hold the public... release a statement reassuring them or something. I can't do this right now."

The man in the Floo fidgeted. "The public demands an authoritative response, and well... since you have made this your project this year, I thought you would be the best candidate – being the Minister and all – to reassure them."

When Draco stared at him wordlessly, he went on: "It would only really be for an hour or two, sir. Certainly, you can manage both? It would really help move things along with the treaty... And, I'm afraid the violence would be bad publicity…" he was pleading now.

Draco sighed in defeat. _Great power comes with great responsibility,_ he mentally scoffed.

"I have to make arrangements with my wife. I'll be there in half an hour, hold the crowd till then. I'm sure you can manage at least _that_," he said bitterly.

Renhald grimaced. No doubt, the Minister was going to be testy tonight.

"Of – of course, sir. I'll have your coffee ready." With that the he ducked out of the Floo, loosening his tie as he went.

Draco turned away from the fireplace, kicking a chair out of his way as he went to sit on the armchair behind his desk.

How was he going to explain this to Ginny? Things had been going so well for them for the last couple of days, and now tonight – when it was crucial that they be together – this stupid treaty, his stupid _job_, had once again intruded on their lives. He wondered how she would react – if she would once again regress back into her cold shell, if any progress they had made in the past couple of days would disappear because of this, like it had happened many times before. Or, would she show her anger now, like she used to? He much preferred her screaming to her silence; at least, when she was screaming she was still talking to him, letting him know exactly how she felt. In her silence, she withdrew from him completely, and he felt a loneliness that he'd rather not know.

With a dejected sigh, and one last contemptuous look at the fireplace, he got up from his chair, running a hang through his hair as he left the office, slamming the door behind him.

What other choice did he have? This was life.

* * *

She stared at him stonily, her lips pressed in a thin line. They were still standing in the foyer. She had her hands crossed across her chest, her eyes narrowed; he stood not a foot away, one hand in his pocket, the other running through his hair, and over his tired eyes.

"It's the Children's Hospital Ball, Draco. We never miss it."

"I know," he sighed. "I've tried to get out of this, believe me, I've tried but it's unavoidable. I have to go."

When she stared at him without saying anything, he rubbed his forehead before stepping close to her, and lifting her chin with his hand.

"Ginevra, I know how important this Ball is for you. It's important to _both_ of us. I would love nothing more than to go there tonight with you, but be as it may, I cannot abandon my duties. I will be gone for a couple of hours, so I don't think I'll be back in time to escort you, a fact that I most deeply regret. Would you like me to call one of your brothers to take you?"

"They're all going, Draco, with their own wives to escort! Both of our families are going to be there," she snapped, stepping out of his grasp. "And, no, I don't want to go without you. How would it look? Lady Malfoy without her husband, all alone at a ball she helped bring about... we wouldn't want to raise eyebrows, now would we, _darling_?" She was mocking him now, but all was not lost. There was still anger in her, she was still talking.

He sighed again. It was like being between a hard place and a rock – he was never going to win this. Frustration was starting to set in.

"What would you have me do, Ginevra? Parade around a ballroom with you while thousands of people are getting hurt out there because of a project that _I've_ been heading for the last year? I'm sorry you're upset and I'm sorry we can't make it, but there is _nothing_ I can do! As the Minister of Magic it's my responsibility to clean up the mess, and I simply can't abandon my responsibilities."

She looked stricken for a moment; her eyes went wide and her arms dropped, her brows furrowing with displeasure, and he wondered if he had gone too far.

"Is that what you think this is all about, Draco?" she whispered. "Is that what you really think of me? Vain, pitiful Lady Malfoy, who just wants wear her designer clothes and be photographed at my society events? My god! I thought you knew, I thought... Do you even know what today is? Do you care?"

"Of course, I know," he said, his expression regretful. "And, of course I care, I care, I... how could I ever forget? I'll never forget." He stepped forward, pulling her into his arms. She let him pull her close, trying to hold on to her anger, trying to keep her tears away as he whispered. "I just, you know I can't stay. I have responsibilities towards this country that I can't deny. I know, I know I should be here with you, but I can't. Don't you see?" He was the one pleading now, begging her to understand. Resolutely, she avoided his eyes, those gray depths that always made her forgive him. But, it was close now, she could tell; she would look and she would understand, as she always did.

"Ginevra..." he titled her face towards him with a finger. He looked so tired and defeated that she didn't have the heart to argue with him anymore. She had never stood a chance, anyways. He was the Minister, and she was the good wife.

She smiled at him sadly. "I understand," she said as she leaned up into him, and his arms went around her instinctively, pulling her closer. With one hand threading through his hair, she kissed the corner of his mouth gently, her soft lips brushing against his own as he turned into the kiss. After years of waiting, and wondering, the feel of her in his arms, the warmth of her mouth on his made him forget why he stood there, and what could possibly tear him away from this amazing woman in his embrace. He felt her lips part slightly, and he nipped at her bottom lip, his hands carefully pulling her even closer. Too soon, her lips left his and moved to his ear, and he suppressed a shiver as her breath tickled his sensitive skin.

"Goodnight, Draco," she whispered, her voice huskier than usual, her cheek pressed against his, her hand still in his hair.

And then, the cool air began rushing in as she pulled away from him, her eyes teary and sad, and he remembered why he was there, and just what was taking him away from her. Her broken expression left him confused and guilty, and he wanted to say something – anything – to stop the pain that was becoming more and more evident on her face. He stepped forward, and reached out to her.

"Gin –" he said helplessly, lost for words.

She retreated at his advance, however, shaking her head and giving him one last look of sadness before turning around and fleeing up the stairs. He stood there, one hand still reached out, watching her ascend with her heels clicking against the floor as she walked away from him. When she disappeared at the top of the stairs, her footsteps echoing down the hall, he dropped his hand to his side, absently bringing up his other hand to caress the spot where she had kissed him.

What had just happened? Why had she stopped yelling at him? Why did she _kiss_ him?

He knew she was completely justified in her anger, and yet, when he had mentioned his responsibilities, she had suddenly stopped. It was as if she was – had – given up.

_Fuck._ He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated by the situation.

He couldn't let that happen. He had put in way too much thought and emotion in the last couple of days, taken too much time to obsess over his marriage to have it all fall apart after one argument. He was going to talk to her tomorrow. He would spend time with her, and make her see that she was important to him, that he was willing to work on their relationship, and that this misdemeanour of his was nothing but small hurdle that they could easily overcome. They had to.

He stared wistfully at the empty staircase for another minute before composing himself, and walking down the dimly lit hallway back to his study.

* * *

Ginny ran into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Her vision was blurred by tears, her chest heaving periodically with hiccups and sobs. In a hurried frenzy, she began taking off her jewellery and throwing it on the bed. Once that was off, she kicked off her shoes, and stripped off her dress, kicking it away as she stumbled to the washroom and into the shower, closing the door behind with a heavy sigh.

She needed to distract herself before she went completely mental and did something regrettable. She just needed a shower, and then everything would be okay. Shivering slightly, she stepped further in, reaching out a hand to turn on the shower. Warm water drizzled from the showerhead, wetting her boding and drowning her tears. She breathed in deeply, trying to even out her breathing, to restrain the hiccups that rose in her throat.

Everything was going to be okay, she just needed to breathe.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breath out.

Breathe in –

Somehow, today her tears couldn't be pacified. No longer able to control herself, she choked out a sob, swallowing her bile as she broke down on the floor, hugging her knees, and rocking back and forth. Her quite cries were drowned out by the water.

"Wil –" she cried. "Why did you leave me? Why did you leave me?"

Her beautiful face crumpled as she stared at the floor, hugging herself as she asked the same question over and over again, her cries mixed in with the noise of the water, and her tears lost in its tides.

* * *

**Author's Note:** **_So, what did you guys think? I know this was sad chapter, but things will get better, I promise! Anyways, please leave a comment and let me know how you guys liked this chapter because your feedback is very important to me. As always, thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed on this story thus far, and especially on the last chapter - you guys rock!_**

**_Hope you enjoyed this,_**

**_xoxo  
LovingEmerald~_**


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

_"She's got a smile that it seems to me  
Reminds me of childhood memories  
Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky  
Now and then when I see her face  
She takes me away to that special place  
And if I stared too long  
I'd probably break down and cry_

_Oh, sweet child o' mine  
Oh, sweet love of mine_

_She's got eyes of the bluest skies  
As if they thought of rain  
I hate to look into those eyes  
And see an ounce of pain  
Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place."_

– _"Sweet Child O' Mine"_ by Guns N' Roses

* * *

The water finally turned icy before she dragged herself out of the shower. A dry towel and a good warming charm were enough to make the cold go away; the fluffy bathrobe she donned afterwards also helped. Slipping into her night slippers, she padded down the stairs, hesitating when she reached the second floor. She considered going downstairs to the kitchen and getting a cup of hot chocolate. She imagined Draco would be gone by now, but just in case… she turned and walked into the second floor family room, resolving to steer clear of the first floor for now.

The room she entered was cosy. The walls were covered in a dove gray shade, furnished with large, comfortable crème coloured sofas, and the windows adorned in heavy velvet curtains. A small chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting soft yellow light in the room. Ginny went to a cupboard in the corner, opening it to retrieve a small basin from it shelves. Making her way back, she placed it on the coffee table that was in the middle of the room, and settled herself on the sofa, stretching her legs and turning over on her side. The soft fabric felt wonderful on her skin, warm and comforting like a much needed hug. With a flick of her wand, a white screen appeared at the other end of the room. Another flick sent the silvery contents of the basin into a swirling mess, and then the memories began playing, one by one.

The first one was of her own childhood: _running through the fields behind the Burrow, Ron chasing behind her. She was laughing as they both fell and her brother – lanky even then – yelled "Gotcha!" _Those had been simpler days.

Then, it was a memory of Draco's childhood that he had lent her.

_Her tiny, eleven year old husband sat slumping in his chair, playing with his morning eggs, his shoulders barely coming over the table. His silky blond hair was a warmer colour, falling into his; there was a small pout on his lips as he stared ahead. A door opened behind him, and he instinctively straightened up as his father walked in, sitting down at one end of the table, and his mother across from him. _

_"Good morning Mother, Father," his sweet voice said to them. _

Even to this day, Ginny couldn't get over how cute he sounded, despite his many protests that he most certainly did NOT sound cute.

_"Good morning, Draco," his parents replied before his father went back to his morning paper, his mother turned to her day's schedule, and Draco began eating his eggs._

This was a normal family breakfast for them, so different and strange from the loud and jolly affair that took place at her house every morning. Their worlds had been so different then.

She flicked her wand and another memory popped up. This time, it was of an afternoon they spent by a pond in the Manor grounds.

_They had just had a picnic. Lying in the shade of a big elm, Draco's head was nestled against her stomach, and she was leaning back against the tree, staring out at the lake, feeling oddly comforted by the swish-swash of the water. There was a gentle breeze, lightly teasing her hair, and cooling her skin on that warm, summer day. Draco sighed and looked up at her, and she smiled back at him, running a hand through his silky hair. This was love – the peace and comfort between them… that was love. _

Ginny smiled. This memory always made her happy in a peaceful sort of way. The next memory began with screaming.

_She was in the newly renovated Burrow, the war was over. This must have been six years ago. Ron's kids were still toddlers as she chased behind them, playing their game of tag. Rose's wild red curls bounced as she ran away from Ginny, dragging a young Hugo along. _

_"You'll never catch us, aunt Ginny!" they squealed, running out the door. She chased them into the living room, and around the coffee table, before the three finally collapsed on the carpeted floor, their Aunt playing the tickle-monster, laughing with them._

She sighed. They were so cute back then; sometimes, she wished they could stay young forever; that they wouldn't have to go away to Hogwarts every year, so she could spend time with them like she used to. On the screen, the memory continued to play…

_ As Ginny backed up and lay down on the ground with a sigh, they were on her again, trying to pull her up by her hands, goofy smiles on their faces._

_"Aunt Ginny! Come play with us again!" _

_"Aunt Ginny, Aunt Ginny, Aunt Ginny!" they tugged at her hands._

Ginny snuggled into her pillow, her eyes drooping as their voices mingled together in her head.

_"Aunt Ginny, Aunt Ginny, Aunt Ginny!" they laughed._

"I'm coming," she mumbled, and then, the world was black.

* * *

Draco walked down the second floor hallway, his eyes searching the darkness for his wife. He had gotten back and Apparated directly into their bedroom, hoping to catch Ginny before she went to sleep, so he could apologize – once again – for ruining her evening. Instead, he had landed to find himself in an empty room, his wife nowhere in sight. He had searched their floor, wondering if maybe she was sleeping in the guest room for the night, as she used to do before, whenever she got mad at him. When he had no luck there, he had decided to scourge the entire house.

_Where is she? _

She had never left the house after their fights before. She always stuck around… but, what if this time she didn't? He shuddered to think what he would do if she had really left.

He quickened his pace as a flickering light down the hallway came into view, coming through the open doors of the family room. As he crept closer, he heard voices.

_"Aunt Ginny, Aunt Ginny, Aunt Ginny!" followed by her laughter._

He hadn't heard her laugh like that in so long. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, savouring the sound before it faded away, and the memory started playing again.

Draco entered the room to find her snuggled with pillows on the sofa. The voices he'd heard were coming from a huge screen that hung on the opposite wall, playing an assortment of memories from a nearby Pensieve. He smiled as he watched her watched her chase the kids around. Ginny used to love this memory before; she'd watch it all the time, saying that this was how it was going to be. She had it all planned out, but somehow, life had intervened, and all her plans had fallen apart.

Taking one last look at the memory, he flicked his wand, vanishing the screen, and putting the Pensieve back into the cupboard in the corner. At once, the room was engulfed in darkness, with only the moonlight spilling through the windows, shinning like spotlights on the couple.

Draco turned to face Ginny, wondering if he should wake her. She looked very comfortable where she was, her face buried in one of the throw pillows, her hands hugging her sides, though it wasn't cold in here. He could only see part of her face, but from the way her lips curved in a slight smile, and the way her chest rose and fell evenly, he figured she was really asleep. Besides, if she was faking sleep, she would've woken up the minute he walked into the room. She was controlling that way – everything always had to be perfect. His mother would be proud.

He studied her for a moment, before deciding that he should wake her and escort her back to their room; as comfortable as she looked here, it couldn't possibly be good for her back to spend the entire night in such cramped space.

Scooting down so that his face was level with hers, he whispered: "Wake up, Ginevra."

She did not move. He decided to try again.

"Ginevra, you've fallen asleep on the sofa. Wake up," he said, brining up his hand to lightly shake her shoulder.

Again, there was no response.

His fingertips brushed her silky locks and he inhaled the sweet scent of her shampoo. It was some concoction they had discovered in Paris on a trip several years ago. Since then, she'd been importing and using the same brand every day; it gave her hair a silky sheen, she'd said. He often used to tease her that she was mistakenly born a Weasley, that with her expensive taste and penchant for clothes, she was meant to be rich, and their marriage was simply destiny taking its course.

He smiled as he ran his fingers through her hair, catching himself before he could swoop down and place a kiss on her lips. Their kiss earlier that evening had been heavenly, but he had no clue how he was to act after that. Kissing her now would only complicate things further, and he would rather avoid that for now. He retrieved his hand, and she snuggled into the pillows some more.

Draco sighed. There was no way she was going to wake up easily, and he wasn't in the mood to ruin what seemed like a really good (and much needed) nap.

There was no other way.

He stood up, bent down, and scooped her up into his arms, carefully holding her head against his chest. As he walked out the door, and down the hallway, he noticed that she had lost a considerable amount of weight since he'd last held her like this.

_How come I've never noticed before?_ He frowned as he ascended the steps. _The stress isn't good for her. Does she even eat all three times? We never eat together anymore...Maybe she works too much. I wonder if she'd give up some of her shifts in the Children's ward if I asked her to. _

The last time he'd asked her to give up one of her jobs – the one at the Prophet – had turned into a full blown fight, which had resulted in her not talking to him for an entire day before he finally broke down and gave her the committee position. The sex afterwards had been good, though, heavenly.

They hadn't been together in such a long time that he'd almost forgotten how it felt to be in her arms, to feel her heart beating beneath his, her shapely legs around his waist. Draco shook his head, as if to shake away the thoughts. There was no use getting horny now, especially when his wife was in such close proximity (and so vulnerable), that he could end up doing something he'd later regret. As always, he was afraid of confronting her with anything. So much for being the "problem-solving Minister"... he often fancied himself a coward when it came to his marriage. If he wasn't so afraid, he would've talked to her already. Dragged her back to therapy, or to one of their secluded properties in Eastern Europe, where they would lock themselves away until they had shouted themselves hoarse, and solved all their problems... maybe had a shag or two.

But, of course, he couldn't do that. He couldn't leave on an open-ended vacation because he was the Minister of Magic, and it was his _responsibility_ to stay in the country and look after its administration. Days like today, he really hated his job. He couldn't go to therapy because, aside from the fact that it was dreadfully boring and he found it impossible to believe that someone other than him, his wife, and his mother could ever understand the intricate workings of his emotions, it hadn't done them much good the first time around. So, why repeat a failed experiment?

It was all too much for him sometimes, and Ginny's continued silence did nothing to help their situation. There were times when he would see small flickers of the old Ginny in her eyes again – in those few precious moments where she lost control – but then, she'd put on her cold mask again and pretend that everything was alright; that she was just a good wife, he her responsible husband, that this was the life they were always meant to have. It was all so convoluted, that it made even his parents' marriage seem warm. Sometimes, he wished she could forget, that they could both forget and truly accept the farce they were living. Things would be so much easier then, if only they could just talk...

He reached the top of the stairs, and walked down the hallway to their bedroom door. Using his elbow, he pressed down on the handle, kicking the door open with his leg, all the while being careful not to wake the woman in his arms. He closed the door behind them softly, walked towards the bed, and deposited her softly on his side the mattress. Once again, the moonlight was splayed across her face, highlighting her cheekbones. There were angles to her face that he hadn't seen before.

_It must be the weight loss. I still need to figure out how I'm going to point that one out to her. _

As he reached over her to push aside the covers, he wondered if she ever doubted his fidelity. He was gone most of the time. Sure, he spent all his time at the office (and yes, his secretary was a geeky, bespectacled male), but she didn't know that for sure. Besides, their lack of intimacy itself spoke volumes. Of course, Ginny had never said it out loud, nor indicated in any way that she doubted him, but that meant nothing. She kept most things to herself these days. She could be worrying herself sick over it, and he would never know.

Not that she had a reason to worry. From the moment he had kissed her, Draco had never looked at another woman twice. There was only one woman for him, and it was Ginevra, in all her splendour, and moods, and demeanours. She was his, and he was irrevocably hers.

Gently, he shifted her to her side of the bed, and pulled the covers over her, tucking them carefully around her. He undressed where he was, throwing his clothes in the general direction of the closet; the elf would get them later. Sliding in beside his wife, he slept on his back, an arm slung over his eyes, the other across his stomach. It was two o'clock in the morning, and he was exhausted. The protest had taken much more time than he had anticipated, and then running around the house, trying to find Ginny...

As his eyelids closed, he had a fleeting thought that perhaps she would enjoy some strawberry topped waffles for breakfast. Then, random images of Ginny eating an odd assortment of berries filled his mind, and he was lost to dreamland.

* * *

_**A/N: Whew! Okay, I am scared to look at the last time I updated this story because I know it was months ago! It's sad to say, but school has sort of hijacked my life. But I'm finally on my Xmass vacation, so I took the time to sit myself down and finish this chapter - it's been in the pipeline for quite a while, let me tell you! I won't even bother promising another date for an update, but I will tell you this: I will try my hardest! To those of you who've come back and read this chapter - THANK YOU!! Please read and review because your opinions warm my heart :) and thanks for sticking around and waiting for this story :)  
**_

_**Also, if you want to check out the song used in this chapter, it's posted on this page (without the spaces): ****http:// loving-emerald .webs .com /afterall .htm**_

_**Again, please R&R, I'll wub you forever, I promise! Happy holidays everyone!  
**_

_**xoxo**_

_**LovingEmerald~**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_Every night you cry yourself to sleep  
Thinking: "Why does this happen to me?  
Why does every moment have to be so hard?"  
Hard to believe that;_

_Of all the things I felt, but never really show.  
Perhaps the worst is that I ever let you go.  
I should not ever let you go, oh oh oh._

_It's not over tonight,  
Just give me one more chance to make it right.  
I may not make it through the night,  
I won't go home without you._

– "Won't Go Home Without You" by Maroon 5

* * *

The sun filtered through the bedroom windows of an old Wiltshire mansion as the woman inside woke up with a start. Flinching at the brightness, she brought her hand up to cover her eyes and buried her face in her pillow. As the minutes passed on, and her eyes adjusted to the daylight, she realized with dawning horror that she was stretched diagonally on her bed, the sheets tangled around her legs, her hair a messy mop of red. Gasping, she sat up, pushing aside her covers and righting her robe as she tried to get her bearings straight.

_What – what time is it? _Ginny thought, frantically grappling for the clock on her bedside; it read 9:00 am. _Ugh, I slept in._ And, just as that thought entered her mind, last night's events came rushing back to her, and she was left with even more questions.

_I slept in... In my own bed, not the sofa downstairs... but, how? It couldn't have been the elves; they don't do things like these unless specifically asked to. _

_It could've been Draco,_ her mind provided an explanation. She shook her head – why would he bother? And, even more so, how would he even know where she was? He probably came back home and slumped into the bed exhausted, and left early. _Maybe I just sleepwalked... stranger things have happened._

Sighing, she got out of bed, grabbing a hair tie to put up her hair. It seemed like she'd slept in her robe, and quite freely, from the way she'd woken up; she only hoped that her limbs hadn't been all over the bed while Draco was still sleeping – as much of a gentleman as he was, she doubted that a sight of her looking haphazard was going to do their marriage any good. Grabbing her wand on the way, she entered her bathroom, and began to get ready for the day.

* * *

Downstairs, in dining room of the same house, sat a man. He was an elegant man, most refined looking with his blond hair neatly combed back, and dressed in a smart gray suit. He had parchment in front of him, nibbling his lip as he scribbled a message for his beloved. When he was done, he snapped his fingers:

"Winky!"

An elf appeared promptly, bowing her head as she spoke: "What can Winky do for you, Master?"

"Take this letter to your Mistress, and bring her a dozen roses from the garden – without the thorns, of course – and tell her..." Draco stopped to think for a moment. "Tell her that I apologize for last night's events, and that I hope she accepts my invitation. That's all."

"Yes, Master," the elf said, and popped away with the letter.

Draco got up from his chair, and considered his next step. After a moment's consideration, he walked out of the dining room, and made his way to the kitchen.

* * *

Steam floated out into the room as Ginny exited the bathroom, towelling her hair as she walked out. The sun was up now, and the room was filled with light, giving it a feeling of warmth that she always loved. She felt better today. The earth is always calm after it rains, renewed somehow, and that's how she always felt after her emotional upheavals – every cry released some measure of pain she had inside her, and sometimes, she mused that if she just cried long enough, all her pain would flow away. Tossing aside the towel, she began to make her way into the dressing room when a _pop_ interrupted her.

She turned around to find Winky, smiling oddly as she clutched a bouquet of red roses and a piece of folded parchment.

"Winky?" Ginny enquired, giving her a questioning look.

Bowing, the elf said: "Winky is sorry to interrupt Mistress, but Master has instructed Winky to deliver this," she extended the flowers and the parchment. "Master says he apologizes for last night's events, and hopes that you will accept his invitation."

"Does he now?" said her Mistress as she gently took the roses and the note from the elf. "Do you know what this says?" she asked the elf, waving the parchment. When Winky shook her head, she continued. "Okay. Thank you, Winky, that will be all."

The elf popped out of the room, and Ginny sat down on the mattress, staring at the items in her hands with awe. She felt both confused and delighted. The flowers themselves were lovely, and though she was too afraid to open the note just yet, she was sure that – as the roses foreboded – it contained something pleasant. What sort of an invitation would this be? She could hardly think of anything that he went to where she wasn't invited, unless of course, he was part of some secret society and was now initiating her... it could be entirely possible, what with his history, and the detached manner of their marriage – she hardly knew anything about him beyond what happened in their house and at their parties.

_Seriously, Gin, secret society?_ The sarcasm of her mind seemed to make sense too, and so she decided there was only one way to find out what was really going on.

Putting aside the flowers, she unfolded the note; it read:

_Dear Ginevra,_

_Good morning. I hope you've had a good night's sleep. If you're wondering how you ended up in bed, I took the liberty to guide you upstairs when I found you sleeping in the second floor living room last night; it seemed you couldn't be persuaded to wake up. Forgive me if my actions offend you. There are more apologies in order. I know last night didn't pan out exactly as we planned, and I am deeply regretful of my absence. It should've been a heart-warming night for you, so I apologize for ruining it, and I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me._

_That being said, I would also like to invite you to have breakfast with me today, as soon as you're ready. I will be waiting in the family dining room. There will be no need to announce yourself; enter when you please._

– _Draco _

She stared at the letter, a smile on her face as she felt mixed feelings of sadness and happiness. Truth be told, she didn't blame him anymore. It was just a choice he made a long time ago, and she had come to accept its repercussions. As much as she hated him in those moments when he chose his work over her, she could never find it in her heart to be mad at him for long. She understood his predicament. He was always regretful – and though he hadn't gone to such lengths to apologize in a long time – he always did apologize; he always felt awful after such events, and he always tried to make it up, usually with a trinket here and there; occasionally, flowers like he did today. A breakfast date was a whole new development. But, at least, he was trying. She knew that he must have skipped the morning at work to have breakfast with her, and for that she was grateful. If he could make an effort to try to mend their relationship – even a little bit – she decided, she could at least try to meet him half way.

With that thought, she put the note in her armoire and entered the dressing room, looking for something to wear.

* * *

The house elves fluttered around Draco as he recited the menu to them. Waffles, strawberries dipped in homemade sauce, whipped cream, coffee, and of course, crepes were all to be served that morning, along with a healthy portion of nuts and fruits. It was to be delivered to the family dining room as soon as Mistress arrived...

"And, I mean, as soon as she arrives. I want her to have everything in front of her as she sits down. No need for you to carry it in, just magic it on the table; it will be a nice reminder of Hogwarts," he said with a smirk.

There was a chorus of "Yes, Master," as the elves set about to work, and Draco went back to the dining room.

Everything was set for breakfast. There was a white tablecloth covering table, decorated with hand painted dishes, cutlery, and goblets of water. The drapes were pulled aside to let sunlight into the room; Ginny liked sunny rooms. Well now, there was only one thing left to do. Draco took out his want and muttered an incantation. The table began to rumble, its surface shrinking – almost like rubber – till the mahogany eight-seater had shrunk down to a table for two.

"_There's no reason to sit a million miles away from each other."_

Draco smiled as he remembered a day several years ago when she was the one who had insisted on shortening the table...

_It was a cold, wintry night, about seven months into their relationship, when they'd decided to forgo the restaurant and stay in for dinner to enjoy the warmth. They had already given their orders to the house elves, who were bustling away, preparing a meal as the couple lounged by the fire in the family room, sipping red wine. _

"_Have I ever told you how beautiful your house is, Draco?" she sighed as she stared at the ornate fireplace, decorated with intricate mouldings, no doubt at least a couple centuries old. _

_He smirked beside her. "Yes, I believe you've mentioned it once or twice, or thrice," he added, nudging her._

_She chuckled, "Ha-ha. Okay, but seriously, if I ever had a house like this, I would spend months just decorating it – and mind you, I'd enjoy it too!"_

"_I guess that's how my mother must've felt when she first moved in here. I wasn't around then, obviously, but I've heard Grandmother rant enough about how 'that woman completely desecrated my house,'" he mimicked, "to understand that mother did quite an overhaul when she and my father first married and moved in here." _

"_Did your grandparents not live here once your parents moved in, then? I would imagine this house is big enough that they could live here and not see each other for months," she mused._

_He nodded. "I suppose that could be true, but its tradition. Whenever the firstborn gets married, Malfoy Manor goes to him and his wife – mind you, we haven't had a female heir in quite a while, probably some blood magic – and the previous owners move out. It all evens out really. By the time the parents move out, the grandparents are dead, and they mostly take over one of their other estates. There's always a place for everyone to go."_

_Ginny smiled. "Ah, the luxuries of being rich, Mr. Malfoy, how lucky you are. And yet, here you are, slumming it with a peasant like me."_

_He turned to her at that, taking the wine glass out of her hand and putting it on the ground beside his. He took her face in his hands, staring into her eyes from behind his blonde bangs, and spoke words that made her heart melt: "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, see? I am lucky because you make so, milady, by bestowing me with your presence," his face came closer to hers then, so close that it made her breathless to look at his lips and see the emotion in his sparkly gray eyes. _

"_And I love you for it," he whispered against her lips right before he swooped in and kissed her, in that deep soulful way that she always loved. His kisses were addicting, almost overwhelming and she loved to get lost in them.

* * *

_

_After what seemed like ages, they pulled apart, both smiling at each other lovingly as they held the other. There was a crack in the room and an elf appeared. _

"_Ellie would like to inform Master and Mistress that dinner is served," it said with a bow, and then disappeared._

_Draco stood up and offered Ginny a hand. When they got to the dining room, sight of the huge table lined with pretty plates and mouth-watering delicacies made Ginny appreciate Draco's lifestyle even more. But there was a problem. _

"_What do you think?" he asked, turning to look at her._

"_It's beautiful! But are you sure this is the family dining room? The table seems to be awfully big for a family of 3," she replied._

_He laughed at that, feeling somewhat pleased with her naiveté – it was much more appealing than the breathless praise and snootiness some of his other, more "refined" dates showed._

"_Yes, Ginevra, I'm sure we're in the right room. The other dining room table is 3 times this size," he said, taking her hand and guiding her towards her chair._

"_Wait," she said, pulling her hand out of his grasp. _

_He frowned and turned to look back at her. "What's wrong?"_

_She took out her wand. "There's just one thing..." she said as she flicked her wand, muttering an incantation._

_Suddenly, the table began to rumble and shake as its two ends started to come closer together. Soon, the eight-seater table had shrunk down to a table for two, and not a dish was harmed in the process._

_Smiling, Ginny tucked her wand back into her robe. "Perfect," she smiled at him. When he looked at her questioningly, she said: "There's no reason for us to sit a million miles away from each other, now is there? This works just as well. Shall we?" she extended her arm to him._

_He smiled at that. "We shall," he said, guiding her into her chair._

The sound of footsteps nearby broke Draco out of his reverie. He straightened up in his chair, fixing his hair and tie. A minute later, his wife walked in the door, pausing at the doorway as she hesitantly looked at the room before her.

He got up to welcome her.

"Ginevra," he said, walking towards her and sweeping down to place a kiss on her cheek. "I see you got my invitation. Thank you for coming."

She looked up at him and smiled politely before allowing him to guide her to a chair. She was wearing a powder blue dress, backless, he realized, as his hand brushed naked skin on her back. Her hair was tied up in a ribbon, the waves cascading down her back as if from a waterfall. She smelled incredible, and he was happy to notice that she had perfume on, the same brand they had picked out together in Paris on one of their trips together. It was comforting knowing that after everything that had happened, at least some things hadn't changed.

Walking around to the other side of the day, he sat down on his chair. Just as it was planned, the food appeared the moment they were seated. There were platters of eggs, waffles, toast, fruits, and whipped cream. Their goblets filled with orange juice and water, and pitcher of each appeared in the middle of the table. A curious looked passed over Ginny's face; she looked up at him with a look of genuine, unguarded interest, and said: "a little revisit to Hogwarts, isn't it?"

He smirked at her. "Well, it's a nice change once in a while, I think," he said as he began helping himself to eggs and toast.

She smiled back, "It is."

They fell silent after that, losing themselves to their thoughts as they continued eating. After about ten minutes or so, Draco spoke first.

"I hope you're enjoying the food..."

"Delicious as always," she replied, nodding.

He nodded back. Putting his cutlery down, he proceeded: "Ginevra, about last night... I really am sorry. I wish there was a way we could've gone to that ball. Believe me, there was nowhere else I wanted to be."

She stopped eating at that, and looked up at him. He seemed sincere enough, and his eyes were sad, filled with soft regret, but she didn't need to see any of that. She knew in her heart that he was telling the truth. She just wished he didn't have to apologize so often.

"I understand, Draco," she sighed, not quite knowing what to say. "Thank you for your apology, and the flowers and this breakfast. It's wonderful."

He nodded. Draco had anticipated this awkwardness and he was simply glad she had chosen to accept his apology so quickly and easily. But then, he supposed, he had given her a lot of practice in forgiving in last few years.

Clearing his throat, he spoke again, eager to carry on at least some sort of a conversation. "So, I see you're eating the berry waffles. They're very healthy, you know. Ellie, the kitchen elf, tells me they're good for your weight," he said, taking a bite of his hash browns.

She stopped her fork mid-way, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Are you trying to tell me I need to lose weight?" she asked slowly, not quite believing it.

He immediately realized his folly and hastily swallowed his food to explain. "No, of course not. It's just, I carried you to bed last night, and –"

"You carried me?" she asked, surprised.

He hesitated at that, uncertain of how to proceed. "Well... you fell asleep in the second floor living room, you see, and... I tried waking you up, it didn't quite help, so I decided it would be better for you to sleep in a bed rather than a sofa all night long."

"Oh... why didn't you levitate me?"

He loosened his tie. This conversation he had not anticipated. "I felt carrying you out was safer than levitating you up the stairs and through doorways," came his flustered reply. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he added: "I apologize if you feel I was wrong. I'll keep levitation in mind for next time."

"No, no, don't be silly," she replied, her cheeks slightly pink. "Thank you really for taking me upstairs and thinking of safety and such... I would've never thought of it like that. Thank you," she said, and smiled at him.

He smiled back, unsure of what to say anymore.

"So, why did you want to talk about my weight?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, well, you seemed a bit lighter to me than I remembered, and you look so tired lately, I wondered if it was your diet that was affecting you..."

"Is that why you're eating with me? To make sure I eat enough?" she frowned.

"Well, yes, I mean no, not entirely," he breathed deeply before continuing. "I'm dining with you because I want to. I've taken the day off today, so we can spend it however you like." He finished with one of his charming, politician smiles.

"Draco, that really wasn't necessary," she gasped. "I understand how busy you are, and I don't want to intrude on your work."

He held up a hand to stop her. "I want to be here. It's been too long since my last day off, anyway."

He paused to take a sip of orange juice before continuing: "So, as I was saying, I'm a bit concerned about you. I don't mean to intrude on your personal matters, but I was hoping you would consider meeting with a dietician, just for a check up to make sure you're doing okay?"

She seemed thoughtful for a second. He knew he had no right to tell her what to do. He was fully aware that she might find his concern fake. After all, he was barely around – why would she think he cared? He felt like docking himself on the head sometimes. Finally, she looked at him and nodded. "I suppose I _have_ been feeling a little tired lately. It wouldn't hurt to see the dietician."

He sighed in relief. "Okay. I had Renhald draw me a list of the top ten dieticians in the country this morning. You can look them over and find someone that interests you. I'll instruct Ellie to consult with you tomorrow about this."

She nodded.

The sunlight in the room became a bit brighter then, bringing in more warmth. Ginny's read hair shone brightly in the light, her freckles glittering as she ate. They were almost finished with breakfast now, and Draco realized he had to make his move now, before she left the room. After considering his wording for a moment, he continued.

"As for today, I was wondering if you wanted to visit the Children's Ward, since we missed the ball last night."

She looked taken aback by the suggestion, and Draco wondered if he had just put a damper on their rather cordial morning. She closed her eyes and opened them before answering: "No... I don't think I'm ready to do that just quite yet." She smiled a strained, polite smile, but he knew it was fake. He would have to come up with something else.

"I understand. I'm sorry, I should've known," he replied, nodding.

"It's okay. You don't have to apologize for everything, you know," she told him. "I understand..." she wanted to say more. That she understood that this was the life they had chosen, that it didn't matter anymore because she was used to it, but the words didn't come out. She just closed her mouth and stared at him, wondering if _he_ understood.

"I want to," he said firmly, his face solemn. They stared at each other for a moment before looking away. What was he really apologizing for? It was hard to tell sometimes.

"So... what would you like to do today? I'm at your service all day," he asked, trying to steer their morning back on track. Things were going well so far, he wanted to keep that momentum.

She smiled at his wording. "I actually had a meeting this morning with Pierre. I usually meet with him after every ball; it's a sort of a tradition of ours," she smiled fondly, remembering the countless mornings she had spent with her friend in cafes, going over her dress and all the other gossip from the ball the night before. Since they travelled in the same circles, coming up with things to talk about was never a problem.

"Oh." Draco hadn't even considered that she could be busy. His own self-centeredness hit him, and once again, he felt like slapping himself in the head.

Apparently seeing his dilemma, Ginny decided to placate his worries. "It's okay. I can call Pierre and cancel. I'll just have to Floo him soon before he leaves the house."

Draco looked up at her. "You don't have to cancel your plans for me, Ginevra. I should've consulted with you before planning a day for us. It was rude of me to ignore your schedule."

"Draco, its fine. You made the effort to push aside your meetings for me today, and I can certainly do the same for you." She reached out, tentatively, and squeezed his hand to reassure him.

He was surprised by gesture. She hadn't touched him like this – at least, voluntarily – in a long time. The softness of her skin felt nice in his hands, and he held on longer than usual, caressing her hand with his thumb before letting go. Maybe it was his imagination, but her eyes seemed brighter after he did that. He hoped it was because he was making her happier.

"Okay. I'll wait for you in the library. Then we can decide what to do from there," he said, putting his napkin aside, and standing up.

She stood up as well; "I'll meet you there," she said before leaving for her office to make a floo-call.

* * *

In her office, right across from Draco's, Ginny knelt by the fireplace, speaking anxiously to a meticulously groomed man. He was in his mid-30s, with arched eyebrows and black eyes than sparkled from under his angularly cut blue-black bangs. He looked pleased as Ginny relegated her message to him.

"I'm so sorry, Pierre, I hope you understand..."

Pierre smiled. "But, of course, Cherie!" he said pleasantly. "Don't be silly. We're friends; we can see each other tomorrow, or any other time. Now, the great monsieur Malfoy taking time off from work... that we don't see very often," he winked. "Have a great time with your husband, Ginny, and tell him I said hello."

Ginny exhaled. This is why she loved Pierre – he was so easy-going and understanding, she wondered why more people didn't see past his gay-glamorous (as he put it) "style" and see the kind person he truly was. But then again, she guessed, in Wizarding society, homosexuality seemed to be an invisible topic; sort of like the pink elephant in the room. Everyone knew Pierre was gay, but hardly anyone ever mentioned it. They just pretended he didn't date men, and ogled over his magnificent works of fashion, instead.

"Thanks Pierre; I'll call you tomorrow to set up another day, okay?"

"Will do. Have fun, Cherie!" he said, before disappearing from the fire.

She stood up. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her dress before making her way out the door and towards the library.

* * *

Walking into the library, Ginny softly closed the door behind her. Draco was sitting in one of the leather chairs, a leg crossed over his knee, while he read the morning paper with glasses on. He looked so grown up like that, and she was reminded of how much older they had both gotten. Where had the time gone? There were lines in his skin now, not quite so prominent as to make him seem old, but just a touch here and there, making him seem more mature, authoritative. At thirty-four, he was the youngest Minister England had ever seen, so little things like these always helped him seem more important. Not that he needed it. He was Draco Malfoy, and anyone who knew England's history knew that the Malfoys had always been men and women of power; with him, the tradition continued.

_But what after him?_

He looked up at that moment, and smiled at her. His gray eyes were lively, less tired than she'd seen them lately. _Maybe, he slept in too?_ She sure hoped so; he needed it more than she did.

Putting down his paper, he said: "All done?"

She nodded, walking into the room. "Yes, Pierre was very gracious in excusing me from our meeting. I must remember the send him a box of chocolates this afternoon," she said.

Draco chuckled. "I think he'd be more agreeable to a bottle of champagne," he said, taking off his glasess.

Ginny stared at him, shaking her head.

"What? He's never seen without a glass, mind you."

"Well, even if that were true, I would like to deter that particular habit as much as possible," she responded in a slightly reproachful tone, but there was hint of a smile on her lips. "He says hello."

Draco nodded and leaned back in his hair. "So, have you decided what you would like to do yet?"

She had sat down across from on a twin leather chair, sitting sideways with her legs crossed. She looked thoughtful for a moment, and he watched her resist biting her lips. Finally, she said: "I was thinking we could go to the Louvre, and then have dinner at the cafe we used to like..." she trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. Should she be using phrases like that, referring to their past relationship? That seemed wrong somehow, but it was true. The past years, in which they had been so close... it almost seemed like an entirely different relationship.

Draco saved her from any further tact. "Cafe de la Paix?"

Eager to steer the conversation back on safe grounds, Ginny replied: "Yes, that's the one. So, what do you think? If you have time for dinner, that is; otherwise, we can just visit the museum."

He shook his head, waving his hand to dismiss the notion. "I told you, I have the day off. Anything you wish to do, we will do it."

Standing up, he snapped his fingers. An elf appeared in front of him, bowing as it waited for instruction.

"Get my black spring coat from the closet, Bailey. And..." he turned to look questioningly at Ginny, not quite sure what she was going to wear.

"Get me the white one I bought last week, please. If you can't find it, ask Winky, she'll help you," she instructed Bailey.

The elf disappeared, and the couple waited in silence. After a few minutes, Bailey reappeared, two coats in hand. Taking their coats from him, they put them on.

Extending his arm, Draco said: "Shall we?"

Ginny felt her stomach drop. This was it; for the first time in years, they were going out together on a _date_. She could practically feel the butterflies in her stomach, but thankfully, she somehow managed to hold on to her calm facade. She took his arm with a smile, and with a blink of an eye, they were gone.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This has been a longggg time coming. Firstly, I want to thank every one of you who took the time to review my last chapter, or any chapter in this story at all, and especially those you responded and left such nice messages after my last author's note - thank you so much, really. I wish I could name every one of you, but just know that your reviews and kind words are greatly appreciated, and make this story even more special than it is.

I hope you liked this chapter, I've worked on it for more than two months, and I feel like the characters have changed through this chapter as I have over the last few months, especially Ginny. If you would like to see Ginny's dress, visit (without spaces): loving-emerald .webs. com/afterall .htm - I went with a little daytime sexy, yet classy look for her.

So, please **READ AND REVIEW**! Tell me what you think of the chapter, what you like, what you don't like, what you would like to see more, and I promise I will try to get back to as many of you as possible.

xoxo

LovingEmerald~


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** Yes, I am still alive, and _No, _I haven't abandonned this story. To be honest, I lost inspiration for it for a long time, but it's coming back now, so I hope I can use it to finish this story. Anyway, without further ado, lets get to Chapter 10 (aka your belated xmass/etc. present :P)! Hope you like! :)

* * *

**_"We're gonna start by_**

**_Drinkin' on cheap bottles of wine,_**

**_Sit talking up all night,_**

**_Saying things we haven't for a while."_**

_- _"For The First Time" by The Script

* * *

**CHAPTER TEN**

They landed in a large (and rather busy) room. Yellow light scones hung on walls lined with fireplaces, which burned emerald every few seconds as wizards and witches swooped out and into the room. The section they had landed in was reserved specifically for international apparitions. Stepping forward, the couple made their way across the busy hub, the husband nodding here and there to the various people who stopped to say hello, or just get a glimpse of him – of them. Once they were past customs and security (being as important a man as he was, he got to jump to the front of the line, and of course, no one complained) they started towards the exit. Behind them, two secret service wizards followed, scanning the room for possible threats as they tailed the Minister and his wife silently.

Leaving the Paris TravelPort behind, the Malfoys started walking on the cobblestoned streets of Paris, their arms linked as they made their way over to the famous Musée du Louvre. Built in the 12th century by Phillip II, the Louvre had begun as fortress. Since then, numerous modifications had been made to the building – both muggle and magic – until the mid-18th century, when Louis XVI turned it into a royal museum; later, after the French Revolution, the Louvre became open to public. These days, the museum attracted millions of people, both magic and muggle, from across the world; today was no different. The courtyard was filled with people, buzzing with conversation as the quiet couple made their way around the glass pyramid. There was a warm spring breeze going around, and the air was filled with the sweet smell of Paris.

Ginny smiled as they got closer. She had missed this place. She remembered when she first came here, how she had spent days inside this building, walking down the hallways as she took in all the art and grandeur. It was the summer after she graduated from Hogwarts – two years too late because of the war – and a visit to France had been her special treat. She had planned on travelling the entire country, only staying in Paris for a couple of days. But as things turned out, she fell in love with the city, and spent almost half of her vacation here, only doing a quick survey of the countryside before heading back home. That had been the start of her love affair with the city. Since then, she had come back several times. It helped that her husband was a rich aristocrat with a penchant for luxury (and where better to find it than in Paris?), of course, and that being his own boss gave him ample time to travel there with her. Well... it used to, anyway. These days, their trips to Paris were mostly for business, rarely for pleasure, so she was glad to have a chance to breathe in the city once again. No stuffy balls today, no smiling for the press, no intrusive questions.

Beside her, Draco stood tall, smiling as they continued down the street. He liked Paris. He especially liked how relaxed both he and Ginny felt when they were here. In England, he was a Lord and a Minister. There were certain expectations of decorum and politeness of him, and he being who he was, could stand to pretend and schmooze the hordes of pretentious people he came across every day for only so long. France was a nice escape. The muggles didn't recognize him; they saw him, at best, as one of the nameless rich that often tread the city's paths, and at worst, a haughty stranger in an odd cloak. Though, he had to admit, he had gotten pretty good at masking his dislike of people through the years. Politics did that to you. As they entered the courtyard, he began guiding them around the pyramid and towards the building.

They entered through the Galarie du Carousel entrance. They had annual membership cards to the Louvre which allowed them to get into the museum without having to wait in line for tickets. Ginny doubted Draco had ever had to wait in line for anything. Malfoys always got what they wanted, and usually, when they wanted.

Her hand was still on his arm as they proceeded to the coat check, where he helped her out of her coat and took off his own before handing them over to the attendant.

Turning back to his wife, Draco said: "Shall we?" He held out his hand, and she smiled before taking it.

* * *

They were still holding hands. It had been half an hour since they arrived, wandering through the halls of the Louvre, stopping to look at paintings and sculptures. And throughout all of that, they had continued to hold hands. Once or twice, Draco had extracted his hand from hers to guide her through a doorway or a crowd. Every time, she was disappointed that it was over, but much to her surprise, he kept reaching down and capturing her hand in his own again.

Presently, they were standing in front of the _The Valpincon Bather_, gazing in silence. Their guards waited alert in the shadows.

"After all these years, I still don't get this one," Draco said, shaking his head. Ginny noticed his hair coming loose and falling into his eyes as he did so. She smiled. Considering the painting, she looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking.

"Well... it's supposed to be calm and sensual, in a way, I guess. She's nude, but shown from behind, which in itself presents a more chaste representation of her sexuality. She's turning and she seems to sense the viewer, in this case Ingres, and become uncertain about her position," she offered, trying to sum up the feeling of the painting into words.

"And... I don't know. It's the colours, the way the light falls on her shoulder; the white sheets and flowing draperies that give it a sense of calm, I guess. At least, that's the way I see it," she said, turning to see if it was making any sense.

He nodded. "It makes sense," he smirked. "This is why I love coming here with you, Ginevra. You always seem to make the art more interesting than it is. Not to mention, you understand it better than I do."

She smiled. "Or maybe, you just like to play dumb so you can make me feel smart," she teased.

He laughed at that, throwing his head back and showing off a slight hint of dimples. "I don't think you need any help in that department, my dear."

They stood there, eyes sparkling as they smiled at each other. It felt so good to be able to tease again, even if it was just for a moment.

"On to the next?" she asked after a moment.

He raised his hand, his fingers still entwined with hers, and said: "Lead the way."

Behind them, the secret service wizards followed silently.

* * *

It was nearly two o'clock before they decided to give in to hunger and head over to lunch. One of their favourite haunts, Cafe de la Paix, was just a few blocks away in the Opera Garnier, famous for its exquisite food and celebrity clientele. Legend had it that if one sits at the café, one is bound to run into a friend or acquaintance. For today, Draco certainly hoped it that wasn't case – he had taken great pains to make this day perfect for his wife, and running into one of his acquaintances – which would, no doubt, spark a conversation about work – would surely ruin the mood.

With a hand on the small of her back, he guided Ginny over to their regular table towards the back, by the big windows overlooking the city. He had had Renhald call ahead and reserve the table for them, just in case it was busy today; fortunately, that was not the case. Lunch hour had ended, and now, the cafe had settled into a comfortable murmur, littered with a few patrons here and there. They sat down in silence, taking in the slow music and the lively city in front of them. Their security wizards stood a comfortable 10 feet away, alert in the shadows.

A waitress came to take their order.

"Mr. And Mrs. Malfoy, it's a pleasure to see you again. How do you do?" she said, smiling warmly as she set water goblets down on their table.

Ginny smiled. "Very well, thank you."

"Would you like your regular?" the girl asked, pen and paper in hand.

Ginny looked at Draco questioningly and he answered: "Yes, that would be great, thank you."

"And we'll start with..." he trailed off, looking at the wine list in front of him. "What do you think, Ginevra?"

He looked at her, the question creasing his forehead, and she replied: "Maybe a Chardonnay? Hmmm... a_ Kir au Bourgogne_, please," she said, snapping the menu shut.

"There you go," Draco said to the waitress, doing the same.

Five minutes later, they were sitting back, relaxing with a rather sweet glass of wine, just how Ginny liked it. Taking a sip from her glass, she turned to Draco, watching him as he looked out the window. He looked a painting, or some character in a movie: close enough to touch, but always out of reach. His blonde hair was gelled back from his face, showing off his angular jaw-line and nose. His face was a passive mask, his grey eyes staring silently out the window as he worked on his drink. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he thinking about his work, the meetings he was missing? Was he recalling their earlier visits like she was? Or was it something entirely different?

He felt her eyes on him, and turned to smirk at her: "Am I that interesting?"

She smirked back. "Oh Minister, you're _always_ interesting," she said, taking another gulp from her glass.

His smirk fell at that. She set her glass down and gently tugged at his hand.

"I was only joking," she said with a reassuring smile.

He smiled back and squeezed her hand before letting go to have another swig.

"Speaking of your work," Ginny said. "What happened last night? You mentioned there was a riot..."

Draco nodded, turning to face her. "Yes. It seems some workers were concerned with our policies regarding the import-export agreement with Japan, and what it would mean for their jobs. They staged a protest, but as these things always do, somebody broke out into a fight, and things got out of hand." He shook his head in disapproval.

"That's terrible," she replied, frowning. "I gather you were able to pacify the situation?"

"Yes. Even had to call the Japanese Minister out of bed, but hey, if I'm missing a ball with my wife, he can miss a few hours of sleep," he said matter-of-factly, shrugging.

Her lips quirked at this. "Of course," she replied, over her glass.

He smirked, and pressed on: "About the ball... I had Renhald and the publicist put out a statement explaining the situation. Don't worry about explaining yourself to anyone – nobody is going to ask."

At that moment a waitress arrived, setting down two plates of the cafe's special foie gras with toast in front of them. After their glasses were refilled and the waitress gone, he continued.

"Though, I don't think I can say the same for your mother. I sent her a bouquet this morning about it... haven't heard back yet."

Ginny shook her head. "Don't think on it; I suspect she's just busy. You know she adores you. I think she was happier than you when you became the Minister," she said with a laugh. "'My son-in-law is the Minister of Magic, you know!'" she mimicked. He laughed at that, shaking his head.

Ginny smiled and continued: "I'll floo her when we get home. I'm sure she'll understand."

Draco stared at her for a moment, amazed her ability to constantly forgive him and forge on as if everything was the same again. If it weren't for her constant support and sacrifice, he didn't know how he could've made it this far in office. It was little things like these, when they acted almost normal that kept him grounded and sane. Sometimes, he didn't think he deserved her at all.

She raised her eyebrows at him, and motioned to the food. "Shall we?"

It looked delicious.

He nodded, picked up his fork, and dug in, not yet having the courage to share his thoughts with her.

* * *

An hour later, they had thanked the owner for yet another great meal, and were walking back to the TravelPort with full stomachs.

"I think _that_ was the most satisfying meal I've had in a long while," Draco said, rubbing his stomach.

Ginny nodded. "I know, I'm so full."

The air was chillier than before, and the Sun only had a few hours left before it would drown into the horizon. They walked side by side on the walkway, their hands tucked into their respective coats. Today had been a good day. As much as Draco's job impeded upon their lives, Ginny was thankful that he always found a way to make up for it.

Today was more romantic than she had anticipated, and she felt closer to him – and to them – than she had in a long time. She smiled at the thought.

"What are your plans for tonight?" her husband asked as he opened the door to the TravelPort, ushering her inside.

"Nothing in particular; I'll probably make that call to my mother..." Suddenly, she was struck with an idea.

"Draco," she said, stopping him with a hand on his arm. "Isn't Narcissa in France right now?"

He nodded.

"We should go visit. You know she was expecting us just as much as my mother last night, and since we're here already... why not?" She asked with a shrug.

He looked hesitant. His family wasn't like Ginny's. Though he loved his mother and knew she loved him, showing up, informally at his mother's vacation house (where his "step-father" probably was) didn't seem like the best idea. But then again, his mother had always loved Ginny, so maybe this wasn't the worst idea, either.

He smiled tightly. "Why not? Let's go." He guided them towards the domestic apparitions section, motioning the two guards behind them to follow.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy currently resided in a beautiful French-country house near Versailles. Hidden behind beautiful garden hedges and trees, the cottage was located in the outskirts of town, carefully hidden from wizards and muggles alike. And much like the Manor, it didn't take to uninvited strangers very well.

After Lucius Malfoy had died, and Draco had married Ginny, his mother had declared her move to France. Her work had been done, she'd announced. She had passed on the Company to her son, and her son to Ginevra, and now she was free to live her life, preferably somewhere where she didn't have to put up with the snarky remarks that _still_ bubbled up sometimes, even years after the war. And so she ended up here, in the quiet countryside, enjoying life with none other than Severus Snape. Draco was still a little uncomfortable with that particular development in his mother's life.

Because they were family, the Malfoys had apparition access to all their properties around the world. It was blood magic – the wards always let them in. Since Ginny had married into the family, the wards treated her as it would any other Malfoy. Special arrangements were made for Draco's bodyguards.

A _pop _signaled their arrival into the foyer, and a butler elf come rushing in as they landed in the foyer.

"Master Draco!" said the delighted little creature, happy to see his young master once again. When she had moved from the Manor, Narcissa had taken a handful of her most trusted servants, leaving Draco with the rest of them. Buttler elf Jinx had made the cut.

Draco looked down fondly at the creature, like one would at a childhood nanny. He was spoilt little brat growing up, but the staff always treated him well, and because of that he had grown fond of them.

"Jinx," he nodded. "Please inform my mother of our arrival and let her know that we wish to see her. Send our apologies for the lack of notice."

The elf nodded once and disapparated.

Draco and Ginny broke apart, walking to the sofa set and sitting down. He immediately made for the mini-bar trolley in the corner of the room, pouring himself a small drink and gulping it down. Behind him, Ginny gave a disapproving look. His mother seemed to have one of these things in every room of the house. She was a proper woman, but she loved her drink. She could handle it, of course, for Narcissa Malfoy never let anything in her house that she couldn't control. He walked back towards Ginny, sitting in the arm chair beside her.

Five minutes later, Narcissa walked into the room, wearing icy blue robes, and a small smile.

"Draco, Ginny, we this is a pleasant surprise!" she said, moving forward to hug them both.

"Mother," Draco replied as he bent down to kiss her cheek. "We were in the neighbourhood; thought we'd stop by."

"Oh?" she replied, turning to raise an eyebrow in Ginny's direction, who smiled in return.

"And what brings you to Versailles?" she asked with an arched brow.

"Paris, actually. A social visit," Ginny replied. "Draco took the day off, so we decided to visit our old haunts."

"I see," her mother-in-law replied, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to come see me," she went on. "I haven't seen the two of you in months!"

She walked towards the liquor cart. "Now, who wants a brandy?"

"Already there, mother," Draco raised his glass and took a swig. Narcissa poured herself a glass, and the three of them sat down again, Draco and Ginny beside each other on the loveseat, and Narcissa across them in the armchair previously occupied by her son.

"Narcissa, we wanted to come and apologize personally for our absence last night," Ginny started placidly. "Something came up at the Ministry and it took all night, unfortunately."

Narcissa made no effort to hide her displeasure. She turned silently to Draco, who cleared his throat before speaking: "There's an international project I'm working on currently, and it was in serious jeopardy last night. Unfortunately, it required personal attention from me, and it took all night..." he trailed off.

They sat in silence for a minute, none sure how to proceed now that they had confronted the uncomfortable elephant in the room.

Draco finished his drink and cleared his throat again before speaking. "Anyway, I apologize for absence, Mother. I know you were expecting to see us. It really is my fault that Ginevra wasn't able to make it."

Ginny put a hand on his knee, and smiled at Narcissa. "We really wouldn't have missed if this wasn't an emergency."

Narcissa's eyes sparkled at this gesture of intimacy. _Could it be?_ She thought. She smiled at the couple, her displeasure all but forgotten.

"Of course. I know how important that day is to you, my dears. It's unfortunate, but I'm sure the Hospital will understand. An extra donation this year, perhaps?" She directed the last statement towards Draco, who nodded in return.

"Well, since we did miss last night, I'm planning a small family dinner sometime in the next two months. I do hope you and Severus will be able to attend, Narcissa. It's been far too long since we've had a proper family meal together," Ginny said. "I know my mother has certainly missed you."

"Of course, of course," the other woman nodded. "Molly and I have so much to catch up on-"

"Speaking of Severus," Draco interjected. "Is he here?"

He figured he might as well get the awkwardness over with and pay a proper visit to his stepfather. The faster this was done, the better.

"No, Draco," came her reply. He visibly relaxed at that, and said: "Oh, well that's a shame. Do tell him I said hello."

"Yes, I'll be sure to let him know," his mother replied tartly. Her son's discomfort with her second marriage was no secret to Narcissa. She didn't expect Draco to love or even like Severus. She simply demanded respect, and like the well-bred Malfoy that he was, Draco never failed his manners.

"Well," she said, getting up. "It's been lovely to see you two, but I must get back. I have a meeting with the gardening committee in half an hour, and I need to get ready."

"Of course," they said simultaneously.

The couple rose to their feet at that, smiling as they gathered their things. Narcissa snapped her fingers, and Jinx appeared with their coats.

"It was lovely to see you again Narcissa," Ginny said, kissing her cheek. "I do hope we'll see each other soon. Say, are you going to the Ministry Ball next month?"

"I believe so, my dear. Severus has some business that night, but I shall see you both then," she replied, embracing her daughter-in-law.

Draco stepped forward and placed a goodbye kiss on his mother's cheek. "Good night, Mother."

She embraced him as well, and added: "And I expect to see you both there."

They smiled at each other and walked out of the room. Just as the two were out the door, Narcissa reached out and pulled Ginny back for a private word.

"Ginevra," she whispered. "Does this mean I should hope?" she asked meaningfully.

Ginny seemed to understand her implication for she promptly blushed and nodded. "I'm not quite sure, to be honest. But I'll let you know how it goes." She squeezed her arm and they smiled at each other over their shared secret.

"Ginevra?" came Draco's voice from the hall.

"I must go. Goodbye, Narcissa, it really _was_ nice to see you again," Ginny said.

"I'm glad you came, my dear," the older woman replied with a smile as they parted ways.

Outside, Ginny rushed back to her waiting husband.

"What was that all about?" He asked.

"Just confirming some dates for the dinner, that's all," she replied with a smile, placing a hand on his arm.

He smiled back, and gripped her hand. And with a flash of light and some loss of breath, they were home.

* * *

Much later, they were laying in bed. Draco on the left, Ginny on the right, both on their backs, silently staring at the ceiling. As was usual, they didn't touch, or cuddle, or hug. But tonight, for the first time in a long while, the silence was comfortable. Tonight, they didn't pretend to be asleep for the fear of awkwardness. Tonight, they _talked_.

"I had a really great time today, Draco," Ginny whispered, her eyes trailing the crown moulding.

Draco looked at her, somewhat surprised. "I'm glad," he replied.

She turned her head to smile at him. He smiled back.

Sighing, she burrowed herself under the covers, getting comfortable. "Goodnight, Draco," she mumbled, her eyes falling close.

He stared at her for a beat, taking in her red, wavy hair as it splayed out against the white pillows, her perky lips hiding under the covers. She looked ten years younger like this. Innocent. Worry-free. Beautiful.

"Goodnight, Ginny," he whispered finally, and turned off the lights.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well... I hope you enjoyed that! I just started Christmas vacation this week, so I had time to type this out :) It's been in the pipeline for a while, unfortunately!

**As always: READ AND REVIEW!**

**Happy Holidays, everyone!**

xoxo

LE.


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